Hiccup's Bride
by Cke1st
Summary: Tribal politics may force Hiccup to marry a total stranger from another island! How will he (and Astrid, and Stoick, and everyone else he knows) handle this? How will the total stranger handle it? Movie characters, book characters, and OC's all mix together. Rated T for adult situations and some limes here and there; the language is all K.
1. Chapter 1

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 1

_A/N Tribal politics may force Hiccup to marry a total stranger from another island! How will he (and Astrid, and Stoick, and everyone else he knows) handle this? How will the total stranger handle it? Movie characters, book characters, and OC's all mix together. Rated T for adult situations and some limes here and there; the language is all K._

_Warning: Hiccstrid devotees should not read the first three-quarters of this story. People looking for WAFFs and fluff should also avoid this story. It's a love story, but it's not a completely happy one. This is an idea that just wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. If other people like the way it comes out, I will be (1) pleased, and (2) mildly surprised._

**o**

"Raiders!" The night watchman's cry rang across the sleeping village of Berk, transforming it in moments into a hive of almost-panicked activity.

Everyone knew the drill, even though they hadn't had to fight for their town since the dragon wars ended. Men (and many women) leaped out of bed, grabbed weapons and shields off their pegs on the wall, and rushed into the streets. If they didn't see any obvious enemies, they ran either to the Mead Hall to get their orders, or to the harbor because that was the most likely place to find a foe.

Those foes had landed in the harbor in complete silence and darkness; they'd reached the town's main level before the watchman sounded the alarm. In most cases, that meant the raiders had five to ten minutes to help themselves to plunder and prisoners before the defenders got organized enough to threaten them.

But Berk wasn't the usual Viking town. As the raiders burst into the village, they realized that they'd had the bad luck to visit Berk in the middle of a dragon raid. The huge lizards were _everywhere!_ In the confusion and the darkness, none of the attackers noticed that the dragons weren't flaming the locals or their buildings, but spent all their fury on the intruders. The raiders hadn't come prepared for dragons, either; they had no heavy weapons, no nets or bolas, _nothing_ suitable for taking down a fire-breathing monster. After a few minutes, their chief decided he'd had enough.

"Back to the ships!" he shouted.

"We haven't taken any treasure!" his personal guard protested. "The men came here for plunder!"

"The only thing they'll get is a _barrow_ if we stay here any longer!" the chief shot back. "Meatheads, back to the ships!" His men fell back in a fighting retreat, leaped into their longships, and rowed back the way they came. A few Gronckle fireballs pursued them as they fled.

Their chief, Mogadon, took inventory of his warband. His son, Thuggory, had gotten a nasty-looking burn from a Deadly Nadder's fire, but it was just a flesh wound and would heal into an honorable scar. He'd left four dead behind, over half his men were wounded, and they'd gotten virtually nothing in the way of plunder. The worst news was that Berk would surely raid them in return – it was the Viking way – and with all the casualties he'd suffered, Berk's raid would probably be a lot more successful.

Back in Berk, Chief Stoick was also taking inventory. They'd been very lucky, if you wanted to call it that.

"We lost three men," Spitelout was reporting. "We've got about twenty wounded, four of them seriously, and one woman is missing. They probably carried her off. I've gotten very few reports of missing property. It looks like the dragons did most of the fighting for us."

"We've gone through a lot of pain and confusion, adjusting to having those dragons around," Stoick nodded. "I never realized there might be an up-side to that. This is their nest now; of course they'd fight to protect it. Are the wounded in the Mead Hall?"

Gobber nodded. "Gothi's working on 'em now. She grabbed a few o' the teens to help her. She thought it'd be good to get 'em used to a little blood an' suffering before they go on their first raid."

Stoick nodded once in agreement. Then he went rigid. "Teens? Has anyone seen Hiccup lately?" His son had been through a lot of changes lately, most of them good ones, but he still wasn't a real Viking when the fighting got up close and personal.

"I think I saw 'im saddlin' up his scaly friend," Gobber offered. Stoick nodded and ran to his house. He didn't find the Night Fury's riding gear, which meant Hiccup and Toothless had made it into the air. What he'd done up there, if anything, wasn't the issue. His son was safe. The chief heaved a huge sigh of relief and strode back toward the Mead Hall. He had to speak to the wounded and encourage them.

Hours later, as the sun rose and the village cleaned up the last of the mess, Spitelout approached Stoick again. "Shall I start planning a return raid? Those Meatheads have got it coming!"

Stoick pondered for a moment. "No, not this time, Spitelout. We're too evenly matched. If it weren't for the dragons, they would have massacred us last night, and I don't think we can persuade the dragons to go on a raid with us. No, I think it's time we tried to make a treaty with them instead."

"Our warriors want revenge," Spitelout pointed out. "I know I do."

"My friend, when I was a young firebrand, I couldn't wait to wade into battle, crushing heads and stealing plunder," Stoick said sadly. "Once I became the chief of this village, that changed how I look at things. I look in the eyes of our wounded men, and I think of the pain they're in, and the hardship their families are going to go through...

"There's a time to fight, and there's a time to end the fighting. A wise man knows which is which. For the good of Berk and our people, I'm going to swallow my Viking pride and take the non-traditional way out of this feud."

"So, what do you want me to do?" Spitelout wondered. If it didn't involve fighting, he was out of ideas.

"Our largest ship is going to sail for the Meatheads' island in two days," the chief decided. "I'll be on it, along with an honor guard. Pick twelve good men with scars and missing body parts; we want to impress those Meatheads. My son will also go on this trip. It will be good training for him, seeing how he's going to take my place some day. Arrange for the ship to have a full crew; I want plenty of oarsmen, so my guard won't wear themselves out rowing. We'll be gone for four or five days. I'll be leaving you in charge until I return."

"Right, Stoick," his second-in-command nodded, and set out to find the perfect honor guards.

**o**

The rhythmic strokes of the oarsmen drove Berk's biggest ship steadily across the sea. It would be a two-day journey. The return trip would probably be faster because the prevailing winds would let them sail most of the way. The oarsmen were looking forward to that.

In the bow, Stoick and Hiccup kept a lookout for other ships. There wasn't much else for them to do until they reached land. Hiccup was restless.

"I'm not used to moving this slowly, Dad. Toothless could have brought both of us there by now."

"Remember, son, the Meatheads are not fond of dragons," his father cautioned him. "Their Book of Dragons still says, 'Extremely dangerous, kill on sight.' I know you don't want that for your dragony friend. In fact, it might be best if you didn't even mention our peace with the dragons while we're there."

"Okay, Dad," Hiccup sighed. "Now, can you tell me why I'm going along on this trip?"

"I've got several reasons," Stoick began. "I'm hoping that, if Chief Mogadon is willing to negotiate a treaty, you'll get to sit and watch how it's done. Any Viking lunkhead can start a war, but starting a peace is an art, and it's a skill that almost no one is born with. There are ways to handle people, to work out disagreements, to get them to give in without making them feel like they've surrendered... sometimes, a good treaty is even more satisfying than a victory in battle. At least, I've come to feel that way.

"I also hope that you'll make some friends among the people your own age there. It's always good to have contacts with other tribes, so you aren't dealing with total strangers if a misunderstanding needs to be ironed out some day. Who knows? You might even make friends with their future chief. That kind of contact can only be good for both our people."

"Unless their people make contact by a whack on the head," Hiccup said nervously. "After all, these are Vikings, right?"

"Classic Vikings, every one of them," his father nodded. "There's a reason I told you to wear your helmet on this trip. But you're clever, and I have faith in you. You'll find a way to get by. If nothing else, they're sure to respect your battle scar." He gestured at Hiccup's metal leg. His son nodded.

"What kind of a treaty are you hoping to get, Dad?"

"A simple peace treaty would be enough, but Mogadon is probably too greedy for that," Stoick answered. "We'll probably have to work out some kind of trade agreement, where we each accept some stuff that the other side has plenty of and doesn't want. If we're lucky, we'll be able to use the stuff he sends to us. If not, we'll work another treaty with some other tribe, and pass on the Meatheads' surplus stuff in exchange for something we actually need.

"The part I'm not looking forward to, is the part that seals the agreement. These treaties are usually enforced by a marriage."

"A... a... a marriage?" Hiccup did _not_ like the sound of that.

Stoick sighed. "I've been putting this off for years, son. I never remarried after your mother died, because no one could ever take her place in my heart. But Berk has _got_ to have peace with the Meatheads, and if that means I have to marry some relative of Mogadon's... well, being a chief means you do whatever it takes, for the good of your people."

Hiccup heaved a quiet sigh of relief. For a moment, he thought _he_ was the one who'd be getting married.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 2

The voyage passed uneventfully, and just after lunch time on the second day, their ship eased into the harbor that served the Meatheads' main village. Some dogs barked at them, and one or two fishermen looked up from their nets for a moment, but there was no welcoming committee.

"Isn't that kind of rude?" Hiccup asked.

"Very much so," Stoick replied. "We sighted land at least an hour ago, and we're flying my chief's pennant from the mast, so they know who's coming; they've had that much time to get ready to greet us. I'd say Chief Mogadon is trying to put me at a disadvantage before I even enter his Mead Hall."

"Could it be a trap?" Hiccup asked nervously.

"Mogadon isn't that subtle," his father said dismissively. "A trap would require thinking and planning, and I think he's allergic to both." He turned to his men. "Guards! Form up in two columns of six men each. My son and I will walk between the columns. We will go slowly and with dignity." Hiccup was secretly glad for that; his leg was bothering him today. "Sailors, rest at ease, but stay on the ship until I or my son tell you otherwise. I don't expect trouble, and I don't want to start anything. This will probably take hours; we may even be here overnight, although I hope not." The armed men formed their files and set off toward the center of the town, with their chief and his son in a safe place in the middle of their formation. Two of the guards had wooden legs, so the order to go slowly wasn't just for Hiccup's benefit.

It took them about five minutes to find the Meatheads' Mead Hall. It couldn't be mistaken for anything else; not only was it the largest building in town, but the outside walls were decorated with trophies of all kinds – shields, weapons, helmets, and an unpleasant number of dragon heads. At least there weren't any Night Furies, Hiccup noted with relief.

They entered the Hall and realized that Mogadon was, indeed, expecting them. On either side of the doorway, a rank of armed guards stood silently, staring at them. At the far end, their chief sat on a chair on a raised platform, which would give him a psychological advantage over anyone who stood at floor level. Two especially large, threatening-looking Vikings stood guard, one on either side of him. It was a very intimidating display of force. Hiccup probably would have turned tail and fled back to the ship if he'd been alone.

Stoick, however, didn't know what the word "intimidated" meant. (He had no use for long words like that.) He paused at the door, stepped across the threshold, and bellowed, "I am Stoick, chief of the island of Berk, hear his name and tremble, ugh ugh! I have come to speak to the chief of this place."

Hiccup was taking mental notes, as his father had requested. He noticed with some surprise that his chief was starting off with a mild insult, pretending he didn't know who the chief of this place was. He was also serving notice on Mogadon that his display of force wasn't getting him anywhere.

Mogadon took up the challenge. "I am Mogadon, chief of the Meathead tribe and master of everything I have ever seen! When an Outcast shot an arrow and put out my eye, I plucked out the arrow and stabbed him through the heart with it! When a dragon bit off my leg, I strangled him before he could swallow it, and gave the leg a hero's funeral! Why have you chosen to demean my Hall by setting foot in it?"

_Great,_ thought Hiccup. _Is my father the only Viking chief who isn't a power-mad maniac or a raving loon?_

"I have come to speak to you," Stoick replied with a slightly softer bellow, "about a matter that involves both our tribes."

"Does this involve the devastating raid we launched against your pitiful island two nights ago?" Mogadon demanded.

"That raid was indeed devastating," Stoick nodded. "But not to us. Two powerful chiefs like you and me should be able to reach an understanding about this, shouldn't we?"

"My understanding goes no further than the distance I can swing an axe," Mogadon answered harshly. "But before we go any further, who is the scarecrow who cowers in your shadow?"

Stoick motioned for Hiccup to stand beside him. "This," he said proudly, "is Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, my son and heir. He is here to watch and learn how Viking chiefs treat each other."

_And, boy, am I getting an earful,_ Hiccup thought.

"It would be better if the child played with the other little ones," Mogadon growled. "If he thinks he can keep up with _my_ son and heir, _he_ can be found in the fields on the north side."

"That wasn't a suggestion," Stoick whispered. "Go make some friends; I'll come for you when I'm done." Hiccup scampered out of that oppressive Hall and tried to figure out which way "north" was. It was hard to find the sun through the heavy clouds, but he finally got his bearings and headed in the right direction.

Inside the hall, Stoick began to stride toward the other chief. After two steps, Mogadon's guards laid their hands on their weapons, and Stoick stopped. _The dance begins,_ he thought. _We both want a treaty to end the fighting, but neither of us wants to admit it, for fear of appearing weak. So we both pretend we're stronger than we are, and we're doing the other tribe a favor by negotiating, and by some miracle, we'll somehow end up in the middle together. I really wish Hiccup could have seen this._

Hiccup took one look at the northern fields and also wished he could have stayed in the Hall. There were about a dozen teen-aged Vikings in the field, fully bedecked with helmets, shields, and wrapped weapons, divided into two teams. As he watched, one team rushed at the other, and they swung at each other with all their strength. Even with their weapons wrapped, that still had to hurt! Two of them went down from blows to the head, and were a little slow to get up. Then they noticed him.

"Hey, it's somebody new! Come on over," one of the girls called. These girls weren't thin and wiry like the teen girls of Berk; they were beefy and looked almost as tough as the boys.

Well, most of the boys. One of them stood almost half a head taller than the others, and was clearly the one in charge. He looked Hiccup over disdainfully as he approached. "I am Thuggory, son of Mogadon, future chief of the Meatheads," he sneered. "You are...?"

"Hiccup, son of Stoick the Vast, future chief of Berk," he answered, with the barest hint of pride. Thuggory obviously wasn't used to dealing with social equals; he stood silently for a few seconds.

Finally, he asked, "What happened to your leg?"

"I lost it fighting a dragon," Hiccup answered.

"Oooh!" the others exclaimed, and gathered around him. "Did you kill him?"

"Yes, he's very dead," Hiccup answered.

"I love a good battle story," Thuggory decided. "Let's take a quick break from play-fighting; I want to hear about this."

Suddenly, Hiccup realized with a chill that he couldn't tell the story of the Red Death without including Toothless, and his father had warned him not to mention Berk's dragons. So he made up a story on the spot about how a Deadly Nadder had knocked him down, bitten off his leg, and used it for a toothpick, but accidentally swallowed it and choked to death on it. It didn't sound convincing to him, and it was clear that they didn't believe it, either.

"Fine, I admit it," he concluded. "I got crushed between a ship and the docks." They laughed politely. _So much for my heroic image,_ he thought. _Without Toothless, I'm no hero at all._

"Okay, let's get back to battle practice," Thuggory decided. "Barth's team is losing, so you can join them, Hiccup. I think there's a wooden practice sword over by that rock."

"Hey!" exclaimed a chunky boy. "If you stick _us_ with the toothpick, then we'll _really_ lose! _You_ take him!"

"Barth, he's a _chief's_ son!" Thuggory retorted. "Do I _have_ to remind you what that means? He may not look like much, but I bet he's a killer once he gets his hands on a weapon." Barth nodded reluctantly as Hiccup picked up the wooden sword and a shield and joined him.

It turned out that Barth was a better judge of fighters than Thuggory. Hiccup was nearly useless with the sword. Of course, he could have told them that if they'd asked him. He was much better at _making_ swords than at _using_ them.

In their first skirmish, one of the boys simply shield-pushed him and sent him flying. When he got back on his feet, he found himself engaged by one of the girls, who gave his shield two solid hits before whacking him on the head. He saw stars and nearly fell backwards, but another girl pushed him from behind. He fell against his attacker and they both went down. By the time he recovered from that, the skirmish was over; Thuggory called it a draw.

In their second mock-battle, Hiccup tried to hang back; maybe he could pick on someone who was getting tired from too much victory. One of the smaller boys tried to kick his metal leg out from under him, which hurt like fire, but also brought pain to the other boy's toes. Thuggory laughed so hard at the boy's anguished hopping that Barth got past the future chief's defenses and hit him in the jaw with a padded hammer. The big boy fell flat on his backside, but before Barth could celebrate, another girl hit him on the head from behind, and he joined Thuggory on the ground. Then someone hit Hiccup from behind, and he went down, too. That battle ended in a draw as well.

The rest of the afternoon went pretty much the same. Hiccup acquired such an array of bruises, Astrid could have hit him in the arm with all her strength and the mark wouldn't show. The few times he managed to hit somebody with the sword, his target didn't even notice. Even that was hard, because Thuggory's team usually sent their girls to fight him, and hitting girls was totally against his nature. He didn't impress anyone with his martial prowess.

Back in the Mead Hall, Stoick and Mogadon had finally gotten within hand-shaking distance, gotten past the posturing stage, and settled down to negotiating a useful treaty. To Stoick's surprise, the trade portions of the treaty would be good for both sides; the Meatheads actually wanted Berk's extra wool and yarn, and Berk would appreciate the beef and ham that the Meatheads had a surplus of. (They were called Meatheads for more than one reason.) They worked out the amounts they'd trade, the frequency of the trading voyages, and the other details that could fill a double-sized page with contractual runes. The biggest guard, who was Mogadon's younger brother and chief advisor, Megadeth, was also skilled at writing, so he wrote out the contract, while Stoick read it twice to make sure it said what it ought to say.

Finally, the Meathead chief nodded. "Everything is acceptable here. This will benefit both our tribes, Stoick, but there is one very important issue you have not brought up. How do you intend to seal this contract and make it binding?"

Stoick took a deep breath. "I intend to seal it in the traditional way, by marriage." The Meatheads nodded in approval; they liked tradition. It was well-known and predictable. Most Vikings liked well-known, predictable things. The few who didn't, tended to go off searching for places like Greenland.

"And whom do you offer in marriage?" Mogadon inquired.

"I offer myself," Stoick said. That brought a murmur and a few surprised gasps. "I have been a widower for many years. If you have an unmarried female relative close to my age, I will agree to marry her. This contract will be in force for as long as either of us is alive."

Mogadon conferred quietly with his brother for a minute. Then he turned back to Stoick. "I have no unmarried female relatives your age. The only candidates are much, much younger than you are. Would you consent to marrying a teen-age girl?"

Such things were not considered strange or creepy in the Northlands; arrangements like this happened fairly often. Some middle-aged men even hoped to be paired off with someone much younger than themselves, to help them feel young again. Stoick had no interest in feeling young again. He'd done enough stupid things while he was young; now he was old enough to know better, and he was enjoying being middle-aged, thank you very much. But that left him with a terrible problem he had to solve, right now.

Stoick had really, _really_ hoped it wouldn't come to this. He'd done everything he could to avoid it. But, as he'd said to Hiccup on the ship, being a chief means you do whatever it takes, for the good of your people.

"I would not consent to marrying a girl that young, no matter how charming she might be," he said slowly. "However..."

Back in the north fields, the teens decided to quit for supper. For Hiccup, it wasn't a moment too soon. He felt like a solid mass of bruises; it would take a week before he felt normal again, he was sure of it. As they walked toward the Mead Hall, Thuggory clapped him on the shoulder, which nearly knocked him down again.

"You weren't the killer with a sword that I thought you'd be," the big young Meathead exclaimed, "but you're not a quitter. I have to respect that. You should build up your sword arm, and maybe you'll be a great chief some day." Hiccup just nodded.

He saw his father waving to him from the direction of the harbor, so he said farewell to his new friends, most of whose names he couldn't remember, and joined his dad. They walked with the guards in silence toward the ship. Hiccup was dying to ask how the negotiations had gone, but he knew his father would talk when he was good and ready, and not a minute before then.

It wasn't until the ship was out of the harbor and headed home (under sail power, which pleased the rowers) that Stoick finally turned to his son. "We did it," he said, with an odd half-smile. "We have a treaty that will keep Berk safe from the Meatheads for many, many years. Congratulations, son."

"Uhhh... thanks, Dad. What did _I_ do?" Hiccup had a vague sense that he might not like the answer.

"You are the safeguard for this treaty," Stoick replied. He was having trouble looking Hiccup in the eye. "As long as you're alive, we'll have peace."

"I guess that's good, but... what are you talking about?"

The big man rested a hand on Hiccup's shoulder. "You just got engaged to Mogadon's niece. Like I said, congratulations. The wedding will be in five months."

Hiccup felt a sudden, powerful urge to throw himself overboard.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 3

When Hiccup finally found his voice (well, you know, most of it), he croaked, "Dad... why?"

"Treaties like these are always sealed by a marriage of some kind," Stoick explained, trying to be kind about it. "We want to involve each side's ruling family, so neither side will break the treaty for fear of hurting a relative. As long as either of you is alive, the treaty is in force, and because you're young, that gives Berk several decades of peace with the Meatheads. All of Berk is going to be grateful to you, son."

"All but one, you mean," Hiccup said. "If Astrid doesn't kill me, she'll kill herself instead."

"Son, I warned you several times that this day might come," his father said patiently. "Chief's sons are worth even more in the marriage market than they are as warriors or tradesmen. I know how you feel about the Hofferson girl, and I did everything I could to keep this from happening. I was willing to marry some old goat of a Meathead widow, just to spare you from this, but they were all out of old goats.

"I've tried to school you in the duty a chief has toward his village, and it's time for you to put those lessons to work. Your tribe and your village need this treaty more than you need your girl friend."

Hiccup stared out to sea. He had trouble making his eyes focus on anything. Finally, he blurted out, "What's her name?"

Stoick grimaced. "I forget. I think it started with a 'Þ'," he said. "Þorax, or Þornbush... something like that."

"Þóra?" Hiccup asked.

"Yes, Thora – that was it!" his father exclaimed. "Did you meet her today?"

"I met someone by that name," Hiccup replied glumly, remembering the various girls who had beaten him half-senseless with padded weapons. "I can't remember which one she was, but they were all built more like Phlegma than Astrid."

"Hiccup, I know you're disappointed," Stoick said, "but try to get over it. She's probably a very nice girl, and you'll have your whole village behind you to help you work it out."

"Get over it?" Hiccup repeated bitterly. "You're telling me to give up the only girl I've ever loved, in exchange for a total stranger, and I'm supposed to just 'get over it?' Dad, I know my duty, and I'll try to do it. But _no one_ can make me _like_ it!"

"Hiccup, which part of 'congratulations' don't you understand?" Stoick's face clouded over. "You are _going_ to find, or make, an excellent sword for your wedding. You are _going_ to write some vows to say to your bride that will make the women at the wedding cry. You are _going_ to help build a fine house for the two of you. You are _going_ to do everything in your power to make this marriage a good one." He bent over to look his son in the eye. "And if you give me the _slightest_ reason to think you aren't trying your _best_... if you make me think for _one moment_ that you're trying to sabotage this arrangement..." For half a second, Hiccup saw a flash of the same rage in his father's eyes that he'd seen on that awful day in the Mead Hall when he'd been disowned and kicked out of the tribe. It only lasted a moment; then Stoick regained his self-control. He never finished voicing his thought, but the message had gotten across, loud and clear.

"You're not the only Viking who's ever gone down this road," the big man went on. "I'd met your mother only once before I married her, but we made it work, and we were happy. It's the same with just about every other Viking who's ever lived. This isn't a punishment, son. This isn't some strange fate that the gods saved up, just so they could torment you with it. This is normal Viking life."

It took effort to think about anything other than the horror of marrying someone who wasn't Astrid, but Hiccup somehow managed to realize that his father was being honest with him. Stoick really felt bad about this arrangement; he'd truly tried to prevent it. That didn't make anything better, but it meant he couldn't be angry at his dad over this.

He wanted to pace up and down the length of the ship, so he could let off a little tension. But the ship was filled with oarsmen and guards; pacing the ship would be like negotiating an obstacle course. Pacing side to side was much too short a distance; he'd be dizzy from constantly changing direction before he let off any tension that way. So he stood motionless.

"Son?" Stoick asked, a bit anxiously. "Is there anything I can do to help you... adjust to this?"

Hiccup turned to face his father. "Right now, the only thing I ask is that you _not_ announce it to the town until I've had the chance to tell Astrid myself."

"I'm not sure I approve of that idea," his father rumbled. "You are now engaged to be married. You shouldn't be spending time alone with any other girls. If Thora's family found out about that, they might think you were being unfaithful to her. That could cost you the engagement, or it _could_ cost you your _life_. Maybe both."

"Then help me work something out so I can talk to her without breaking the rules," Hiccup exclaimed, almost desperately. "We've gotten so close to each other..."

"That wasn't wise, son," Stoick interrupted.

"Maybe it wasn't, but since when did the human heart listen to reason? Dad... I love her. She loves me. When she finds out I'm going to marry somebody else, it's going to kill her. If she finds it out about it from a public announcement in a town meeting... Dad, you can say what you like about how I handled our relationship, but _she_ deserves better than _that_."

"Your devotion is to your credit," Stoick replied, using formal language to conceal his discomfort at his son's emotional openness. "You would do well to transfer that devotion to the girl you're going to marry. If I can think of a way for the two of you to talk without causing shame, I'll do it. _Once_."

After a long pause, Hiccup swallowed hard and quietly said, "Thanks, Dad."

Stoick decided it was time to chat with the sailors. He left Hiccup alone with his thoughts.

Those thoughts were quickly assuming maelstrom proportions. He didn't even think he was old enough for marriage yet! He figured he and Astrid still had a year or two to enjoy each other's company, with no pressure or expectations, before tribal society would demand a commitment. Now, just like _that,_ it was over.

He would have to give up Astrid forever, and spend his life with a total stranger instead.

He would have to vow eternal faithfulness to that girl, whoever she was, no matter what she did.

He would have to – oh, gods! – he would have to _kiss_ her, and be _intimate_ with her. He might even get her _pregnant!_ How could he _do_ that with a total stranger? He'd feel like he was being unfaithful to Astrid, for sure.

Astrid. She would eventually have to marry some other man, and kiss him, and be intimate with him, and bear him children. Everything that he'd ever dreamed of doing with her, she would have to do with someone else.

He would meet her in the Mead Hall, or in the streets of Berk, and they would have to pretend that they never meant anything to each other. They would have to nod at each other and keep walking.

Who was he doing this for? He didn't even know who this girl _was!_ He couldn't picture her _face!_ How was he supposed to plan his entire future around her? Was she even worthy of the sacrifice he was being forced to make?

What if she turned out to be whiny and selfish and demanding? What if she was sickly and wanted endless attention? What if she spent all his father's money and left them penniless? What if she mocked and insulted and belittled him? What if she undermined his position in the town, once he became chief? What if she left him after a while and returned to her home, full of knowledge about how to beat Berk in a war? What if she beat _him?_

He clutched the gunwale to keep himself from shaking. He was very close to crying, and he didn't want the sailors or the guards to see him if that happened. It wouldn't give them confidence in their future chief.

For the first time in his life, he cursed the fact that he was the chief's son. If he could have been born a total nobody, this never would have happened, and he and Astrid could still be happy together! What was the benefit of belonging to the tribe's ruling family, if all he got out of it was abject misery and heartache for the rest of his life?

What if his father hadn't changed his mind on that awful day in the Mead Hall? "You're not my son," Stoick had said. If that were still true, then he wouldn't been able to promise Hiccup in marriage to anybody. Hiccup could have chosen his own bride! No, he couldn't; marriages for young people still had to be approved by adults. Besides, Stoick had also said, "You're not a Viking," and if _that_ were still true, Astrid couldn't have gone near him.

His life had been turning around for the better! He had befriended an amazing dragon and formed a bond with him. He'd saved his village and become a hero. He'd founded the first Dragon Training Academy in the entire world. He'd won the heart of the girl he loved. His father was even beginning to approve of him! Why did _this_ have to happen? This ruined _everything!_

His mind spun in endless circles, never finding a place to rest. He got very little sleep on the return voyage, and the sleep he _did_ get wasn't restful. His father tried to draw him into conversation several times – about the trade agreement, or the teens he'd met on the Meatheads' island. Hiccup remained sullenly silent, nodding or shaking his head to avoid being totally rude to his father, speaking only if the rules of society demanded it. Stoick eventually got the message and gave up.

At last, the headlands of Berk came into view, then the two carved fire-towers that marked the harbor entrance. That sight, which had comforted seven generations of Viking seamen, brought Hiccup no joy. Somewhere in that town was the girl he loved, and he would have to break up with her forever, when that was the last thing either of them wanted. Could _anything_ be worse?

Yes. She was standing on the docks, smiling, waiting for him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 4

The crew tied up to the docks quickly; they hadn't gotten off the ship since the voyage began, and they were eager to feel land under their boots again. Stoick dismissed them with his thanks, and watched them scatter. Hiccup and his father were the last to disembark.

Astrid ran up to him and hugged him. He returned the embrace half-heartedly, knowing that his father was watching and not approving, but unwilling to push her away. She sensed the difference immediately. "Is something wrong?" she asked him.

He looked around him. There was no one nearby except his dad. This might be his only chance to spend some semi-private time with her. "Can we walk out to the end of the dock? There's something I have to tell you." She agreed, somewhat anxiously. He glanced over his shoulder; his father nodded, but with a look that said, "Be careful."

They reached the end of the dock. He leaned against a piling; he'd spent most of the last four days at sea, and he was still adjusting to the fact that he could stand still without surging up and down with the waves. She looked very concerned. "Talk to me, Hiccup. What happened out there?"

"Well, the voyage was uneventful," he began, trying to sound light-hearted, and failing. "Dad says he worked out a good treaty with the Meatheads that will bring us years of peace and bring about some good trading as well."

"You're beating around the bush, Hiccup. What happened to _you?_"

"I found a bunch of teens there, who were all playing the kinds of war games that Ruff and Tuff love. They were duking it out with padded weapons. They asked me to join them, and as you can see –" he gestured at the bruises on his arms "– I didn't do very well. But it was neat meeting some new people my age. Their chief's son is a big guy named Thuggory; he could put Snotlout in his place, but I think he's okay under the surface."

"I'm going to _add_ to your bruise collection if you don't get to the point, Hiccup! I know you. You brought me out here to say something important."

"Well... I also met a bunch of their girls. They were all part of the war game, and most of these bruises are from them. They're –"

Astrid grabbed him by the shirt front. "Hiccup, _say_ it!"

He hung his head for the space of two breaths. "My –" He meant to say it out loud, but his voice completely failed, so he could only whisper it. "My dad's gotten me _engaged_ to one of them. I'm going to have to marry her. In five months."

He would have preferred it if she'd gotten angry. The wide-eyed look of shock and pain on her face hit him so hard, his knees shook; he felt like jumping off the dock to get away. Slowly, her grip on his shirt went limp, and her arm fell to her side.

"Why?" she finally asked, her voice just above a whimper.

"These treaties get sealed by a marriage in the families of the tribal rulers," he forced himself to say. "Dad wanted to be the one who got married – he wanted to spare me this – but the Meatheads didn't have any single women his age, just teens. My marriage to this girl is the key to the whole treaty. Without it, we're at war again."

Astrid turned away. She had thrown her axe at targets thousands of times, and never taken more injuries than an occasional cut on her hands. Now she looked like an axe had cut her to the heart.

"What is she like?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know," Hiccup answered. "I was with a bunch of them at once, and I don't remember who was who. Nobody introduced us or anything. All I know is her name: Thora."

"It figures," Astrid said. " 'Thora' is the feminine version of Thor. She sounds like a real bruiser."

"They're all bruisers on that island," he replied. "They aren't a bit like you."

She turned back to face him. He could see her eyes watering, but she fought the tears back; she was _not_ going to cry, at least not in front of anyone. "What are we going to do?"

"I have to marry her," he repeated, shaking his head. "I don't have any choice at all. That's the price I pay for being related to our chief."

"There are _always_ choices!" she exclaimed. "What if we got on our dragons and just flew away? What if we found someplace else to live, and just settled down and lived like a couple of nobodies?"

"We could do that," he nodded slowly. "We could turn our back on our families and friends and everyone we know, and go someplace where people still hate dragons and kill them, and leave our village at war with the Meatheads, who will never trust us to make another treaty because we broke the first one." He shook his head. "I can't do that. I don't think you can, either."

"Hiccup, there's _got_ to be _something!_" She grabbed his shirt, with both hands this time. This wasn't a prelude to her hitting him; this was her being close to panic.

As gently as he could, he pried her hands off his shirt. "Astrid, you're... you're the only girl I've ever loved, and I think you're the only girl I ever _will_ love... I thought you were my destiny... but they've taken me away from you. I've been given to some stranger as a peace offering, for the benefit of two towns full of people who will never know the price I'm paying for the peace that they'll enjoy."

"Will they care about the price _I'll_ pay?" she demanded. "Without you... I'll have to marry Snotlout! Or maybe some strange man from another island, if I'm lucky. Lucky?! _Hah!_ I'd rather stay single than marry anyone else, but I know my dad won't let me." She stared at the wooden dock for a few seconds, then slowly raised her head to look at him again. "I won't marry anybody else."

This was the first time they'd ever used the "m" word when talking about each other. They'd assumed they had a few years before they'd marry, so they'd felt no hurry to talk about it. Now that it had suddenly become impossible, _now_ they were ready to talk about it, but it was too late.

He met her gaze, and they both came _that_ close to falling apart. They reached for each other, slowly at first, then desperately, and held on with all their strength.

They clung to each other for several minutes. They didn't cry – she was too much in shock, and he wasn't going to let his emotions go if she didn't – but they couldn't have felt more miserable if they'd been sobbing out loud. Somehow they knew they would never be allowed to be this close again.

Stoick, watching from the middle of the pier, felt like he should intervene and separate them before somebody saw them. Instead, he turned away. He felt like the most heartless villain who had ever cursed the Northland with his presence.

_My son, I'm so sorry,_ he thought. _I didn't have any choice, either_.

At last, they broke their embrace. He moved as if to kiss her goodbye, but she pulled away from him.

"We can't, Hiccup. _You_ can't. You're engaged."

He stood and watched her slowly walk away. It would have been hard to say which of them seemed more lifeless. The pain in his chest felt agonizing. He waited until she had climbed the ramps to the town and was out of sight before he rejoined his father, halfway down the docks.

"Thanks for giving me that time, Dad."

"That's going to be the last time, I hope?"

"Yes, Dad."

"Is it okay if I announce it to the rest of the town tonight?"

"Yes, Dad."

"Are you going to resent me for the rest of my life?"

Stoick waited for the third "Yes, Dad," but it didn't come. Hiccup was looking out to sea. At last, he said, "I don't resent you, Dad. I... I think I resent life."

"Son, please believe me when I tell you, it _does_ get better."

"It would have to, Dad. It couldn't get worse."

They slowly walked back up to town together. Stoick had to organize his thoughts so he could announce the treaty at supper time, and Hiccup... Hiccup had nothing at all to do. He wandered mindlessly around the town. His only conscious intent was to avoid places where he might bump into Astrid, because if he met her and they embraced again, it would take two Monstrous Nightmares to pull them apart this time.

As supper wound down, Stoick called for the people's attention. "Ladies and Vikings, citizens of Berk, I have some important announcements!" Everyone paused politely to listen. Whenever the chief had anything at all to say in public, he called it an "important announcement." Well, was he supposed to say that his announcement was _un_important?

"As many of you know, I spent the last four days traveling to the Meatheads' Island and back." That brought a few boos and whistles; the Meatheads were not popular on Berk.

"As a result of this voyage, I have signed a treaty of peace with the Meatheads' chief. The feud between us is over! They will not raid us again!" That brought heartfelt cheers and applause.

Stoick waited until the people settled down before continuing. "Not only that, but the treaty includes a trade agreement. In exchange for our excess wool and yarn, they will send a ship every two weeks with beef, ham, pork, and... BACON!" _That_ announcement caused general rejoicing. Everyone loves bacon (or _would_ love it if their religion allowed it), and the Vikings were no exception.

Again, he waited for silence. "Finally, as security for this treaty, I am pleased to announce the engagement of the Meathead chief's niece, Thora, to my son Hiccup!" If Stoick hoped that the last announcement would bring the best response, he was disappointed. There was polite applause, a few shouts of approval, and a few gasps from people who knew about Hiccup and Astrid. Many people looked to find Astrid and see her reaction. To everyone's surprise (except Hiccup's), neither she nor her parents had stayed for the announcements.

After the meeting, father and son walked home together. "How are you doing, son?" Stoick asked.

"Do you know what I'd really like, Dad?" Hiccup looked up at his father. "I'd like to go to bed tonight, wake up in the morning, and find out this whole thing was just a bad dream."

"Hiccup, I'm sorry, but that kind of dream isn't going to happen."

"I know that, Dad." He looked down at the ground. "There are a _lot_ of dreams that aren't going to happen now."


	5. Chapter 5

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 5

_A/N This story is drawing an unusually high number of reviews from guest accounts. I love exchanging comments and answering questions from my reviewers (just ask Haganeochibi, Ferdoos, DoomsdayBeamXD, Megadracosaurus, and many others), but I can't do that if you have a guest account. Could I encourage you guests to sign up on the site?_

**o**

A heavy cloud had descended on the Hofferson home. No one could see anything different, but the cloud was there, all the same. It showed in many ways.

Astrid's younger brothers, Varinn and Rangi, didn't really understand what had happened in the life of their sister, but they knew it was something bad and unwanted. They backed off from their usual teasing and sibling torments, and left her alone for the most part. That cut the noise level in their home by at least half.

Her father, Gunnarr, found his biggest plans in life turned null and void. It was understood by everyone in the village that his daughter was destined to be the wife of Berk's future chief. It was just a question of when Stoick would initiate the deal; no one would refuse such an offer, least of all a man who knew his daughter was already falling in love with the boy she was destined for. A match like that would be spectacularly good for his family, in terms of prestige, influence, and (yes, he'd admit it) money. But, most of all, it would mean his only daughter would be happy for life. To a man who loved his family, nothing could be more important than that. But now, all those plans had been abruptly thrown onto the refuse heap, and he had no backup plan for Astrid's life. Nothing at all.

Her mother, Edda, was in something close to a state of shock. She'd shared her husband's dreams for their little girl, amplified by a close mother/daughter relationship – Astrid had gone through a very short rebellious stage in her early teens, and had quickly reverted to telling her mother _everything_ about her life. Edda, like most other Vikings, had had to endure the adjustment to an arranged marriage; the idea that her daughter might be able to marry a boy she knew and liked was something like a fairy tale that was on the verge of coming true. And then, as quickly as _that,_ the fairy tale was smashed into tiny pieces, replaced by what (for Astrid) might well be a horror story. Edda felt the shock almost as acutely as her daughter did. She would gladly have taken the pain on herself if she could, if it meant Astrid might be happy. But that, of course, was impossible. All Edda could do was sit and watch her daughter's misery.

The Norse language did not contain words that could describe how Astrid felt. How can you stand when the earth has been snatched out from under your feet? How can you walk when the only road you've ever known is suddenly barred to you? How can you live when your biggest reason for living just became someone else's reason? She just sat at the table, resting her chin on her hands as her breakfast grew cold, staring at the wall, as though the old wooden boards might give her the answer to all her problems if she just stared at them hard enough.

"Eat something, dear," her mother urged her. "Life isn't going to stop and wait for you to figure out what to do next."

"Mama, what am I going to _do?_" she asked bleakly, her eyes hollow.

"You've always been a fighter, not a quitter," Edda said. "You'll find a way. We'll help."

"There isn't a way this time," Astrid said hopelessly. "He's got to marry that girl, and I've got to..." She looked away. "I'll never marry anyone else," she whispered.

Gunnarr shook his head. "You know that isn't an option," he said, trying not to sound too harsh. "We aren't a rich family; we can't afford to keep you here for the rest of your life. I know it looks bad now, but you'll find someone eventually. You're pretty, you're a warrior... you can pretty well get any man you want."

"No, I _can't_ get the man I want!" she burst out. It wasn't like her to raise her voice to her father; he let it slide for now as she went on. "I'm going to have to marry Snotlout now, aren't I? Tell me the truth!"

Gunnarr started to say something, but Edda held up her hand. "Dear, you know we would _never_ force you to marry someone you can't stand, and we know how you feel about Snotlout. He isn't the only boy your age in the Northland, you know."

"Who else is there?" Astrid asked wildly. "Fishlegs? He's a nice guy, but there's no chemistry between us, and he's just _weird_ sometimes. Tuffnut? He's almost as bad as Snotlout – at least Lout takes a _bath_ every week!"

"You could always go to the Thing with Dad," Varinn chimed in. "There's lots of warrior boys there, looking for pretty girls who'll make good wives."

"Unfortunately, your brother just hit the nail on the head," Edda said, a bit sadly. "When a young man goes to the Thing with his father, he's usually looking for a pretty girl who can cook and sew. You've got the 'pretty girl' part down pat, but your domestic skills... well, that's the price you paid for being so good with your weapons."

"The other kind of boy at the Thing is a warrior looking for another warrior to cover his back in battle," Gunnarr went on. "You'd attract _that_ kind of boy like a lantern attracts moths. But I have a feeling you don't _want_ to attract a boy like that! Someone like Hiccup would want the kind of girl that you _aren't_."

"It sounds like you're telling me Hiccup was one of a kind, and I won't find another one like him," Astrid said, looking from father to mother and back.

Her father and mother looked at each other and shook their heads. That was exactly the message they were trying _not_ to give their distraught daughter, and they'd wound up blurting it out in spite of themselves.

"You don't have to make any decisions today, or tomorrow, or any time soon," her father finally said. "This has been a terrible shock to all of us, especially you. We aren't going to make any other major changes in our lives until we've had a chance to deal with this."

"Mama... what am I going to do?" she asked again. "No matter where I go on this island, I'm going to run into him sooner or later... I don't know if I can handle that!"

"Why don't you feed your dragon and take it for a ride?" Edda asked. She was still ambivalent about that huge Nadder in the back yard, even after all these months, but now it might come in handy. "The sky is a big place; you won't bump into Hiccup there, will you?"

Astrid shook her head listlessly. "Probably not. Hiccup and Toothless always do their riding first thing in the morning." She rose from the table, her breakfast untouched. "It's not fair to Stormfly if I don't take care of her just because _my_ life is over." She left by the back door.

The big blue dragon was stretched out on the ground, half-asleep, but she leaped to her feet when she saw Astrid. She shook her head, rattling her spines, and ran over to greet her rider. As bad as Astrid felt, she had to smile at the excited look on Stormfly's toothy face. "Hey, girl! Do you want some breakfast and a little exercise?" The Nadder chuffed once, which probably meant "yes."

Like all of Berk's dragons, Stormfly was quite capable of feeding herself from the fish trays in the center of town. But she'd made up her mind long ago that she wouldn't eat unless her rider went with her. Nothing Astrid could say or do would make her change her reptilian mind. This was hard on Astrid when it was raining or hailing out, but like most dragon trainers, she'd learned early in their relationship that it was no use arguing with a dragon. _That's one of the few down sides to being a dragon friend,_ she thought. _I wonder if there are any down sides to being __married__ to a friend. I guess I'll never know_.

They made their way together to the nearest feeding tray, where Stormfly filled herself with fresh fish while Astrid watched. A few other dragon riders from the village brought their huge friends to feed at the same time. They all looked at her sympathetically, but none of them said anything. They probably didn't know what to say. At least they didn't make it worse for her; she was thankful for that.

When the Nadder was done stuffing her face, she bent down so Astrid could climb onto her back. Just like eating, Stormfly was perfectly able to go flying by herself. She didn't want to. To her, flying meant flying with Astrid now. The girl climbed lithely onto her dragon and braced herself so she wouldn't fall off when the dragon sprang into the air.

Somehow, getting off the ground made things a little bit better. The chill Arctic air blasted in her face as they gained altitude; underneath her, the dragon was warm, and she felt the wing muscles pulsing with every powerful flap. Sometimes, Astrid gave her dragon directions on where to go and what to do; this morning, she just let Stormfly do what she wanted. Apparently, that meant high flight. They were soon near the cloud layer.

Stormfly leveled off just before they entered the murk above them. The clouds were an unceasing source of wonder to Astrid, now that she could get close to them. She reached up with one hand and felt the soft moisture whipping through her fingers. It felt just like that first time she'd touched the clouds, on that amazing ride...

...with Hiccup.

Her hand flopped back down onto her dragon's saddle, and her mood was suddenly even darker than the clouds.

Stormfly sensed the change. She looked back at her rider quizzically. Astrid felt bad for the dragon, who probably thought she'd done something wrong.

"Let's go up higher," she suggested. The dragon flapped eagerly, and they were soon completely immersed in the clouds. They broke out on top after about ten seconds.

This wasn't so bad. If it had been at night, it would have reminded her of _that flight_ all over again, but it was daytime. Above the cloud layer, there was nothing to block the sun's pale light; the thick clouds that were gray on their undersides were white and inviting on top. Astrid took a deep breath and enjoyed the beauty all around her.

"I wish we could stay up here forever," she sighed. She knew her dragon could almost make that wish come true; few dragons could soar for longer distances than a Nadder. Was there anything else she had to do today? Was there any reason she _had_ to come down before lunch time? She could even skip lunch and stay up until sunset if she really wanted to. Stormfly wouldn't complain.

Then she remembered – Hiccup wanted her to teach the other dragon riders about the strengths and weaknesses of Deadly Nadders in the Academy today. He wanted all the riders to be familiar with all the common dragon types, and no one was better qualified to talk about Nadders than she was.

That would mean going to the Academy and facing Hiccup.

Again, Stormfly felt the change in her rider's mood. This time, instead of acting confused, she took action. She arched up in a tight loop-the-loop, and did two and a half quick spins when she leveled off, leaving herself and Astrid gliding upside down. Her rider would have fallen off if she hadn't been buckled to her saddle.

"Stormfly, what's going on?" she demanded. The dragon curled her head back and chuffed at her; it looked like she was having fun. "You're making it hard for me to stay in a bad mood!"

_Maybe that's what she's __trying__ to do,_ Astrid wondered.

Then the Nadder spun one and a half times in the opposite direction, turning them right-side-up, before flipping over into a dive straight down. The moment they came out beneath the clouds, she reversed her dive into a zoom climb, and they shot right back up again.

Five, six, seven times they zigzagged vertically, in and out of the clouds, with Astrid being jammed into her saddle on the bottom curves, and nearly flung out of it on the top. Anyone watching on the ground would think they'd lost their minds, popping in and out of the cloud layer every few seconds for no apparent reason. "What has gotten _into_ you, you crazy blue lizard?" she exclaimed. "Do you think you're some kind of sewing needle, making stitches in the clouds? I hope you sew better than I do!"

At last the thrill-ride ended, and they were back on top of the cloud layer again, and she could gather her wits about her. The view was breathtaking, just like it was before. No matter where she looked, all she could see was the puffy white clouds. _It would take __weeks__ for us to see all those clouds,_ she thought.

_So if it takes that long just to look at clouds, why do I think I should find the answer to my impossible problem in just a day or two?_

She leaned forward and embraced her dragon's neck. "Stormfly, do you have any idea how clever you are?" The dragon didn't answer, but she rumbled happily, and stretched her wings straight out for a long glide. She clearly meant to stay up here a while. Astrid would never make it to her teaching appointment at the Academy now.

She decided that was okay. Her problems were far below, the friend who could _never_ be taken from her was here, and as long as she stayed up in the air, at least things wouldn't get any worse.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 6

Hiccup woke up very slowly the next morning. This was his third straight sleepless night, and the lack of rest was taking its toll on him. There was no question of him trying to make up for it by sleeping late; there was a loud, stompy dragon on the roof right over his head, who wanted to go flying _now!_ He stumbled down the stairs and out the door, wondering how his father could sleep through such a racket.

"Coming, Toothless," he mumbled. He couldn't blame the dragon for being impatient – he'd been grounded for four days while Hiccup was away on that accursed voyage. It was just hard for Hiccup to get excited about _anything_ this early in the morning, especially when he felt sleep-deprived, and now that he had lost all the joy of living... forget it. He went through the familiar motions of saddling Toothless and hooking up his tail. He could do this in his sleep. He _wished_ he was doing it in his sleep – he wanted to be sleeping.

The Night Fury sensed his friend's lack of enthusiasm. He didn't understand – how could anyone _not_ be excited about flying? He nudged Hiccup with his nose, trying to coax him into a smile. Hiccup just finished the rigging job, gave his dragon a perfunctory pre-flight inspection, and climbed listlessly into the saddle. His metal foot clicked into the stirrup, and –

Suddenly they were airborne and climbing fast. If Hiccup refused to be enthusiastic, that wasn't going to dampen Toothless' spirits! He'd been waiting for _days_ for this! Up, up, up he went... and then straight down again, pulling out at the last moment, and doing it again. Hiccup just hung on and worked the tail fin when he had to. The dragon tried every move he could think of; he got no reaction at all from his rider.

At last, he flew down to wavetop level, and did a quick spin. Hiccup's head got completely soaked in an ice-cold wave. _That_ got a reaction. Sputtering and shivering, Hiccup burst out, "What did you do _that_ for, you useless reptile? What did I do to deserve that?" The dragon grinned back at him, happy that his friend was finally showing signs of life, and resumed his wild flight. When Hiccup still didn't respond, he dove for the waves again.

"Fine, fine, you want me to talk to you? I'll talk to you," Hiccup half-growled. "I'm in a rotten mood because I had to break up with Astrid so I can marry a total stranger, for the good of the whole village, except me. I don't even know who this girl _is!_ What if she doesn't like you? Now that I think about it, what if _you_ don't like _her?_ I can't think of anything good that might happen here, and a whole lot of bad things." He slumped forward and hugged Toothless' neck. "At least I've got _one_ friend whom they can't take away from me." Toothless was puzzled by his friend's sudden changes in mood and tone, so he stuck with what he knew best – flying.

Once they finally landed, it was time for Toothless' breakfast. Unlike most dragons, he wanted to fly first and eat later, and not only did he usually refuse to eat without Hiccup being there, there were some mornings (like this one) when he really liked it if Hiccup tossed him the fish himself. Hiccup had never objected to that; he figured it was some kind of dragon bonding thing, like the first fish they'd shared, back in the cove, so long ago... It could be a little time-consuming, though. By the time the Night Fury was done eating and ready for his morning nap, they were about half an hour late for their Dragon Training Academy meeting.

Hiccup figured he'd be the last one there, but when he finally arrived, there was no sign of Astrid. That was unusual, and doubly so because she was supposed to do the talking this morning. The others greeted him politely, but a bit standoffishly. He'd get to the bottom of that later.

"Has anybody seen Astrid this morning?" he asked them. They just shook their heads silently. Okay, this was getting uncomfortable.

"She was supposed to tell us all about Deadly Nadders, but that's going to be hard if she isn't here," he went on. "I didn't have anything else prepared to talk about, but while we're waiting... does anybody have any questions I can answer?"

"How'd your head get all wet?" Tuffnut asked.

"You can thank my dragon," Hiccup answered. "I know _I_ won't thank him for it. I guess he decided I needed to wash my hair. Any serious questions?"

"What's it like to be engaged?" Ruff asked, and all the others nodded. So _that's_ what they were thinking. This was going to be very awkward.

He shrugged. "I don't know," he said.

"What do you _mean,_ you don't know?" Snotlout challenged him. "You're engaged, aren't you? Your dad said you were engaged, didn't he?"

"Technically, yes," Hiccup said, "but... I don't feel like anything is different. I'm here, she's there, I don't know who she is, I'm sure she –"

"You don't know who she _is?_" Fishlegs burst out. "How does _that_ work? I heard that you met all the teen-agers on that island!"

"I probably did," Hiccup agreed, wishing this conversation would end, "but I can't remember their names. If they all landed on Berk tomorrow, I could be looking right at my wife-to-be and I wouldn't know which one was her. Can we talk about something else?"

"Okay, how does Astrid feel about this?" Tuff asked.

_If one more person twists the dagger that's in my heart, I am going to __scream__,_ Hiccup thought. He tried to think of some kind of answer that he could say without breaking down, and just the effort nearly broke him down. After a moment, he shook his head and walked out of the Academy.

Now what? The forge seemed like a good place to go. He'd been away for days, so there was sure to be plenty of work waiting for him. Gobber would probably have a few choice comments about his situation, but he wouldn't be cruel about it. He certainly wouldn't bump into Astrid there. Yes; he'd go to the forge, and try to hide from life there.

Gobber was bringing the fire up to working heat when he arrived. "Ahh, the travelin' Romeo is gonna put in a day's work for a change, is he? How refreshin'!" Hiccup didn't respond as he donned his apron and took over the bellows from the master smith.

"What? No saucy comeback?" Gobber asked, surprised. "Ye seem awful quiet, fer a young man who ought to be the happiest lad in th' village."

"Why should I be happy?" Hiccup asked, without looking at him.

"Well, from what I've heard, she sounds like a very nice girl."

"Oh? What have you heard?"

Gobber pondered for a moment. "Well, she's related to their chief, and... uhh... that's a start, isn't it?"

"Gobber, that isn't a start. It's the _end!_" Hiccup blurted out.

"Ahh, ye're bein' too pessimistic," the smith chuckled. "Every Viking man goes through this when 'e gets engaged. Ye're afraid o' the things ye don't know."

"There's a lot I don't know about her," he nodded sadly. "But all that really matters is the one thing I _do_ know: she isn't Astrid."

To his surprise, the older man put down the crowbar he was shaping, and rested his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Hiccup, I'd be lyin' if I told ye I know how ye feel. I don't dare tell ye it'll get easier any time soon, either. All I can tell ye fer sure is, ye've got a lot of friends ready to help ye get through this. Yer father really cares, too, even though he wrestles a bit with showin' it. That, an' it often helps to keep busy. I can help ye with that part, at least."

Hiccup looked up at his smith-master, nodded gratefully, and returned to the forge and the bellows. He didn't feel any better, but at least _somebody_ wasn't trying to make it worse.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 7

Berk wasn't the only island rattled by the shock waves that radiated from the decisions made in the Meatheads' Mead Hall.

"Father, how _could_ you?" Thora demanded. "You promised me you'd marry me to a man with a future!"

"He's the only son of a powerful chief!" her father shot back. "Isn't that enough of a future for you?"

"The only future _he_ has is as a mast for a very small sailboat!" she protested. "He's just a few hairs taller than me, he's scrawny, he's weak, he's got no battle skills..."

"He's got a bride-price," Megadeth answered, trying not to lose his cool. "He's got a morning-gift. He'll have a nice big house. You'll never go hungry. He'll never beat you. If he's as weak-willed as you think, _you'll_ probably wind up running things over there. It seems to me I've got you all set for life, and all the thanks I get is you squawking and fussing because he isn't built like Thuggory!"

"Father, for the twentieth time, I do _not_ want someone like Thuggory!"

"Then you must be the only girl on the island who doesn't," her father needled her. "He can't take three steps out of his house without being mobbed by girls who want to feel his muscles. And I've seen _you_ in that mob more than a few times, haven't I?"

"I go where my friends go," she said defensively. "If they want to make fools of themselves, chasing the chief's son, I can't stop them. But you never caught _me_ trying to feel his muscles, I can promise you that! He's my _cousin,_ for Thor's sake!"

"Good," her father nodded. "Then it's no hardship for you to marry a man with no muscles to feel."

"Father, you're contradicting yourself," she complained. "All my life, you've taught me that it's the strong who survive, and the weak who fail. You've encouraged me to be strong; you've trained me to be strong; and now you're marrying me off to a boy with no strength at all! Do I believe the father who preaches strength, or the father who suddenly doesn't care about it?"

"Yes," Megadeth replied. "I've raised you to be strong for a moment like this. Maybe your future husband has strength that you don't know about, or maybe you're right about him. If you are, then it will be _your_ role to supply the strength that he needs to succeed."

"But that's not fair!" she protested. "If I help him succeed, he'll get all the glory and the honor, and I'll get nothing!"

"You have a strange sense of what's fair," he answered, and he suddenly looked very intensely at her. "You've got this idea in your head that it's your job to watch your husband become a great chief, and complain to me if he fails. You're mistaken. It's your job to _help_ him become a great chief, and not_ let _him fail. If that means being the unsung hero, or the power behind the throne, then so be it.

"As soon as you become that young man's wife, you need to stop hungering for glory for yourself, and start working for glories that the two of you can share. You're no longer living just for yourself at that point. I'm not saying you should become a mousy little doormat who stays barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen, but this 'me, me, me' stuff has _got_ to go. You'll never make a good marriage out of building blocks like that."

Thora wasn't convinced. "And you want me to have a good marriage so I don't shame the family, right?"

"I want you to have a good marriage for three good reasons," her father said firmly. "One, so our town can have the peace that we desperately need. Two, so you'll be happy. And three, the same as number two. You're not just a political pawn, Thora. You're my little girl, and I _want_ you to be happy, even if it doesn't seem that way right now."

"Then why couldn't you pair me off with a more manly man?" she demanded.

"You just finished saying the muscles don't matter! You can choose to be happy with this chief's son, or you can choose to be unhappy with him. You could make the same choices if I matched you up with some other chief's son, or any other boy you care to name. Happiness isn't about what you see on the outside, Thora. You understand that, don't you?"

"I understand that I have to be a good girl and do what I'm told, or I'll ruin everything for the whole village," she said, somewhat bitterly. "That's a lot of pressure you're dumping on me."

"I promise you, once you get into the day-to-day work of being married, that pressure will be the last thing on your mind," he answered. "If you respect him and make him happy, he'll love you and make you happy, and the peace you'll be bringing to the Meatheads will seem like a fringe benefit."

"Is that guaranteed?" she challenged him.

"Just about nothing in this life is guaranteed," he replied. "You could find a friendly _seið-kona_ and buy some kind of love potion, or magic charm to wear, and she'll _guarantee_ that the boy of your choosing will fall in love with you. When it doesn't work, she'll have a good reason why it was your fault and not hers. I could give you all kinds of advice about boys, and so can your mother. In fact, that's exactly what she's going to do when you get the ceremonial washing on your wedding day. Most of that advice will be good. But people are all different. The things your mother did to encourage me to love her probably won't work for you and your young man. You're not your mother, and he isn't me. You'll have to work it out between the two of you, just like every other couple who has ever lived."

"Would you blame me if I said that makes me nervous?" she asked.

"No, I'd say 'welcome to the human race, and it's about time you admitted you don't know everything'," Megadeth answered with a twinkle in his eye. "Thora, this isn't some cruel punishment your mother and I dreamed up to get even with you for all those sleepless nights you've given us. I really think you can be happy with this boy. All you can do is try your best, and I know you – your best is pretty good. Please don't take it so hard."

"Can I ask you one more thing, Father? When you got engaged, did _you_ take it hard?"

"Much worse than you," he nodded. "I was the typical kind of Viking boy you seem to want – I was a good spear-thrower, and I had some muscles and a few small scars – but I was so intimidated by your mother, I don't think I said one word to her, outside of the vows and the rituals, until the day after the wedding. Honestly, I think she was just as nervous. It's something we all go through. We all make it to the other side, and most of us wind up pretty happy with the spouses our parents picked for us."

"Father... how come you never talked to me like this before?"

"I'm a Meathead," he smiled. "I have a reputation to uphold. But our time together is growing short, and I have only a few more months to tell you all the things I always wanted to say.

"You need to go water the vegetable garden now, but here's one last thing for you to think about. If this kind of honest talk is something you like, then maybe I picked the ideal husband for you. He isn't the perfect Viking, so he won't _have_ to put up a front and pretend to be strong and emotionless all the time. He'll be willing to be honest and open with you all day, every day.

"That's something you'd never get from Thuggory's type, I'm sure."

She thought about that as she found the buckets and made her way to the well for water. Several of her friends were on similar errands; they had all heard about her engagement, and they all congratulated her in their own way.

"I heard you're going to marry that _stick_. Maybe you'll have baby twigs together?"  
"It's a match made in Asgard! We Meatheads provide the meat, and Berk provides the toothpick!"  
"Congratulations, and thank you for getting engaged to _that_ boy! Now, all the good ones are still available for me!"

She held her head high and ignored them. It sounded like her father was telling her she could make this marriage into whatever she wanted, for good or for bad. She intended to make it into something that would be good for _her_.

She would have the last laugh. On her friends, on her uncle the chief, on that Berkish bean-pole, on _everyone_.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 8

The more Hiccup thought about his situation, the worse it looked.

"Dad, all those girls looked stronger than me! What if she kills me?"

"Well," Stoick said thoughtfully, "the treaty is in force as long as either of you is alive. So unless she kills you and then kills herself, we'll still have peace, and we'll still get the ship every two weeks with the beef and the bacon and –"

"DAD! I'm serious!"

"Son, you're worrying about nothing. She grew up in a chief's family, so she's been trained in her duty and responsibility, just like you. She isn't going to kill you. I think the Hofferson girl has a greater chance of hurting you than this one."

Did he _have_ to bring up Astrid? Hiccup's heart fell into his boots. "Okay, Dad," he mumbled, and went out for a walk. His father was obviously trying hard to be helpful, but he wasn't thinking clearly. Hiccup needed some impartial advice.

He found Tuffnut, lugging a double armload of firewood from the docks up to his house. Hiccup fell into step beside him. "Tuff, how do you keep a girl from getting mad at you?"

"If you mean my sister, I have no idea," Tuff replied. "I have a natural talent for ticking her off. If you mean some other girl, the answer is to get them to like you. Then they won't want to be mad at you."

"How do you get them to like you?" Hiccup asked.

"That, my friend, is a talent that some of us are born with, and the rest of you can only look on and envy," he smirked. "I can't teach it to you, and if I could, I wouldn't, because I don't want any competition." Even encumbered with logs as he was, he was still taking longer strides than Hiccup could match, especially with his metal leg, so Hiccup excused himself and searched for another advisor.

He found Snotlout, sword-fighting against his own shadow on a storage-shed wall. "Lout, how do you get girls to like you?"

"I've seen you in action, and you're going about it all wrong," Lout answered, pleased with the chance to hold forth on one of his favorite subjects. "You're too nice. Girls love the _bad_ boys! You have to talk down at them! Insult them! Put them in their place! Maybe slap 'em around a little. They say they hate that stuff, but they always keep coming back for more."

"Thanks, Lout. I'll think about that," he promised as he walked away. He thought about it for about four seconds and discarded the idea. It was unworthy of a chief's son, it didn't seem to be working that well for Snotlout, and he could _never_ treat a girl that way.

He found Fishlegs, filing Meatlug's claws so they all matched. "Legs, you know a lot. What do you know about... getting girls to like you so they won't hurt you?"

"Not much," Fishlegs admitted. "If I did, I probably wouldn't be sitting here filing a Gronckle's nails. I'm surprised you're asking me; you're the only one of our group who's been part of a couple. How did you get Astrid to like you?"

"I let her hit me in the arm, I guess," Hiccup shrugged.

"So, logically, what you're telling me is that the way to keep a girl from hurting you is to let her hurt you? Maybe it's just me, but I think there's something wrong with that concept."

"Thanks, Legs. Have fun with the nail file." Hiccup wandered away. Maybe he just needed some time to think. Or maybe nobody knew the answer, and he would just have to guess his way to a solution and hope it worked.

Or maybe that big black dragon who was blocking his path wanted to go flying again, and he could do his thinking in the air. Actually, there was no "maybe" about it. How did Toothless always know when he was feeling thoughtful, and why did he associate those thoughtful moods with flying?

Mind you, he wasn't saying the dragon was wrong. Hiccup did some of his best thinking on Toothless' back... after the Night Fury had gotten the crazy part of his ride out of his system. No one could possibly do any thinking while being spun and thrown around like a tornado victim. But once Toothless settled down for a nice long glide, it was hard to find a better place to do some serious pondering over life's big and little problems. There was no sound except the wind rushing past his ears, there was no one else around to distract him, and Toothless could keep him airborne for hours if he wanted to.

He started thinking, and quickly hit a roadblock. He knew almost _nothing_ about the situation into which he'd been plunged! That was the problem, and it was also the biggest obstacle to finding a solution.

He knew his situation was broadly similar to that of every other Viking who'd gotten married in the past three hundred years. Everyone he'd talked to said the system worked well, but none of them would admit to liking it. That seemed like a contradiction of some kind.

Speaking of contradictions, Fishlegs' comment bothered him. Just how _had_ he gotten Astrid to like him? When he beat her in Dragon Training, she hated his guts. When he took her for a ride on a dragon for the first time, she warmed up to him. But it wasn't until he awoke from his coma, after fighting the battle of his life, that she really showed him some serious affection.

"I guess that's the answer," he said out loud, startling Toothless. "All I have to do is find another super-giant dragon, kill it while my fiancée is watching, and lose my other leg. Then she'll fall in love with me and most of my problems will be over." Toothless shook his head vigorously, nearly slapping Hiccup with his ear flaps. "Okay, maybe not. Do _you_ have any ideas, bud?"

The dragon's idea was to fly higher. It was almost effortless, his way of angling up and flapping occasionally, so that he seemed to be gliding upwards. They approached the ever-present cloud layer and flew right up to it... and then a little closer. Hiccup's head and torso went right into the clouds. He had to squint to keep the tiny droplets from stinging his eyes. "Okay, Toothless, can we go down a few feet?"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized the dragon was probably going to dive straight down at full speed. But, to his surprise, they just glided downward a bit, exactly as he'd asked, until his head was in clear air again.

"Okay, now what was the point of all this, you toothless reptile?" All the answer he got was his head being shoved up into the cloud again.

"Wait a minute... are you trying to tell me something?" Hiccup suddenly wondered out loud. "Do you think just bringing this Thora up here will make her like me?"

_It worked with Astrid,_ he thought. _Of course, that was Toothless' idea, not mine. Maybe he knows more about girls than all the men of Berk put together?_

In the distance, he saw another dragon soaring on the air currents. It was probably a Nadder, and while it was hard to be sure at this distance, it looked like it carried a rider. He knew who that probably was.

"Up in the clouds, Toothless! We don't want her to see us." Toothless looked very puzzled at that. Why would his friend not want to meet the female he liked so well? The Night Fury ignored him and turned toward the Nadder, which was turning toward them.

"Toothless, come on! This is going to be _so_ awkward! It's going to make things worse, not better!" He tried to work the tail pedal so Toothless couldn't fly in that direction. The dragon just angled his wings so he could stay on course. He was obviously determined, so Hiccup gave up. If his dragon wanted him hurting and miserable, there was nothing he could do about it. The two dragons curved gracefully toward each other until they were flying just a few feet apart, wings overlapping.

"Hi," said Astrid, looking in his direction but not making eye contact.

"Uhh... hi," he answered.

"How have you been?" she asked.

"I've been better. How about you?"

"The same, I guess."

"Astrid, this is stupid," he burst out. "We can't keep avoiding each other. We are going to have to find some way of living on the same island. I've talked to everyone I know, and no one has any good advice, so it's going to come down to you and me working it out ourselves."

"Got any ideas?" she asked, finally looking at him.

"No, but dodging each other isn't working. Even if we wanted to, our dragons have other ideas."

"I noticed that," she nodded. "How about if you fly in the morning and I fly in the afternoon?"

"Try explaining that to Stormfly the next time she wants to go flying in the morning," Hiccup answered. "I don't know about _your_ dragon, but when Toothless wants to fly, he doesn't take 'no' for an answer."

"How do they work these things out in the fairy tales?" she wondered.

"In the fairy tales, the hero and his girl never get into a situation like this," he said. "Either they don't have parents, or they make their own plan and their parents all approve of it."

"That's just not fair!" she protested. "If this kind of thing happens to Vikings all the time, how come there aren't any stories about it? Do they _want_ us to grow up full of illusions about love and romance, and then get shocked to death when we find out it doesn't matter how we feel?"

"You know something?" he said. "Considering what we're going through, this is a very normal-sounding conversation. Maybe that's our solution. Maybe we should just act normal towards each other."

"And what about our feelings?" she asked bitterly.

"I don't think there's anything we can do about those," he answered, as softly as he could. "Maybe we can be just friends... some day. For now, let's stop playing stupid games that don't work, and just be real with each other, and see if that works any better."

"If you really think it will work, I'll try it," she said dubiously.

"Do I really think it will work? No," he answered. "But we've got to try _something_ besides flying twelve feet apart, and wishing I could jump twelve feet so I could join you on your dragon."

"That might be awkward," she said with the first trace of a smile she'd shown in days. "You see, I had the same idea, and I _know_ I can jump twelve feet when I'm motivated."

"Great," he sighed. "It sounds like Plan B is in trouble already. Well, I'll see you on the ground, sometime, somewhere. You still owe the Academy a talk about Nadders, you know."

"I'm sorry about yesterday morning," she called. "How about tomorrow?"

"I'll see you then," he answered, and their dragons peeled off; Stormfly headed out to sea, and Toothless flew home.

"Toothless, you are really amazing," Hiccup said. "I wish you could talk, so you could tell me what I ought to do, because I have a feeling you already know." The dragon snorted. "Oh, sure, go on keeping secrets from me," he half-chuckled.

When they landed near the Academy, Fishlegs told him that his father was looking for him. "That's always good news," Hiccup muttered. What new disaster awaited him at his father's hands? He was beginning to think of him as Stoick, the Chief, and Greatest of Calamities.

It turned out to be not so bad. They met outside the Mead Hall as they headed for supper; the chief pulled his son aside. "It's time you got started on building a house for yourself and your wife, son," Stoick said firmly. "You've got only five months."

"I know that," Hiccup answered, "but I know absolutely nothing about building houses. I don't even know where to start!"

"Then I suggest you get some help from someone who _does_ know," Stoick replied, and turned away toward the Hall.

"Okay. Dad, will you help me get my house built?"

The chief stopped in his tracks. He didn't laugh, but there was definitely a twinkle in his eye. "I should have expected that. What kind of house did you have in mind?"

"Well... I guess a longhouse would be better than a tall one like yours. Longhouses are easier to heat, and they're easier to add a room to, if we need more room."

"The problem with a longhouse, son, is that it doesn't look very impressive. A future chief's house needs to look like there's a future chief living inside."

"There's another thing about longhouses, Dad. They have more square footage for the same amount of wood than a tall house, and... I've got a friend who needs a lot of square footage. That's more important to me than looking impressive."

"The dragon?" Stoick shook his head. "Do you think your wife is going to share her house with a Night Fury?"

"She'll have to, Dad. Toothless is so used to spending time with me, I'll never be able to convince him to stay outside all the time. My house is going to need extra-wide doors for the same reason."

"Wouldn't a narrow door keep the dragon out, and solve the problem?"

"No, a narrow door would just get busted when he forced his way in. You know how stubborn he can be, Dad."

Yes, Stoick knew how stubborn that dragon could be. During those long weeks when Hiccup lay in a coma after defeating the Red Death, the dragon refused to leave his side, no matter what Stoick tried. Food, threats, a solid push in the rump... once Toothless decided on a course of action, there was no turning him from it.

Stoick nodded. "Extra-wide doors. Got it. Any other ideas?"

"Yeah, the roof has to be strong enough to handle him jumping up and down on it in the morning when he wants to go flying."

"Hiccup, I think it's time you consider what kind of changes are going to happen in your life once you're married. Your existence is going to revolve around a girl, not a dragon. I'm pretty sure she won't like being awakened in the morning by a flight-happy dragon dancing on the roof right over her head."

Hiccup shook his head firmly. "Dad, you keep telling me I have to adjust to this girl. Well, she's going to have to make some adjustments, too. Love me, love my dragon."

"I don't know, Hiccup. Women can be just as stubborn as Night Furies."

"Dad, I know Toothless is a friend who will never leave me. I don't know anything about this girl at all. If you were me, where would your loyalties lie?"

Stoick thought for a long moment. Then he nodded. "Extra-strong roof; got it. I suppose having a Night Fury on the roof will make it look impressive, too. I'll hire an overseer and start buying some wood tomorrow. I'll expect you to play an active role in building this house, Hiccup!"

"I'll do that," Hiccup nodded, and they walked into the Mead Hall together. "What's that smell, Dad?"

Stoick inhaled deeply. "It's roast beef, fresh off the boat from the Meatheads! Our treaty is paying off already."

_I'm glad __something__ good is coming from it,_ Hiccup thought.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 9

Hiccup and Astrid tried treating each other normally, they really did.

When they passed in the streets, they would say "hi" and keep walking. If they wound up at the same table in the Mead Hall, they would keep the conversation going as best they could. When they were in the Dragon Training Academy together, they kept it "business as usual" to the best of their ability.

But there would always come a moment when one of them was talking, and would suddenly make eye contact with the other, and their voice would falter for half a moment. It was only a quick hesitation; they thought no one else would notice. They could not have been more wrong.

The twins were the first to catch on to it, and laughed whenever it happened. Then Snotlout caught on, and named it "the Astriccup moment." From then on, whenever either of the ex-lovers had that momentary pause in speaking, the other teens would yell, "Astriccup!" and watch their two friends turn crimson. It always meant the end of whatever Hiccup or Astrid was trying to say; they couldn't go on after that. They soon grew reluctant to talk when the other one was around, and that pretty much killed the idea of trying to treat each other normally. They went back to avoiding each other. That didn't work, either, but at least it wasn't so embarrassing.

Meanwhile, the preparations for the biggest wedding in the town's history were getting started. One team of hired workmen labored on building Hiccup's house, while another team built a larger house on the other side of town to house their guests from the Meathead tribe. The team that built Hiccup's house soon decided that his greatest contribution would be to stay out of their way. He would hammer at least one nail a day, so he could truthfully tell his father that he was involved in the project, and then they would take the hammer away before he broke something or hurt himself. The idea that the smith's apprentice might know how to use a hammer never crossed their minds, and he chose not to say anything about it.

He was a lot more involved in the metalworking side of the preparations. The groom's family was expected to provide a high-quality sword, which would pass to the bride's family as part of the ceremony; the bride's family would do likewise. Hiccup knew that the Meatheads had a strong martial tradition, and the sword they would bring to the wedding would be nothing short of excellent. His task was to match that excellence, or exceed it if he could, with a sword made with his own two hands. He had an idea that just might work, and he spent all his spare time on it. He also made two gold wedding rings, but that was almost child's play by comparison.

He had to write his wedding vows and memorize them. He had to be indoctrinated in Viking history by his father, who was poorly disguised as a long-dead ancestral guardian of their culture and lore. He had to maintain his work load in the forge, take care of Toothless, and force himself to look upbeat in front of the town, who expected him to be enthusiastic about his wedding and his bride.

And he had to do it all without any idea who he was preparing for.

The pressure on Astrid was intense as well, but there was no culturally approved way for her to deal with it. She just had to pretend that the young man she loved, and had expected to marry, had simply disappeared, and been replaced by a new chief's son who meant nothing to her. She was a fairly good actress, but this role was killing her, and she couldn't keep it up for much longer. She _had_ to talk to _somebody_ about these feelings!

She found Ruffnut sitting in the grass by the seaside. Every few seconds, the long-legged blonde would pluck a nearby dandelion and blow the tiny seeds away. As Astrid grew closer, she could hear Ruff saying, "Fly away, little seeds. Float on the breeze, until you sink into the sea, and a fish eats you, and none of you will _ever_ grow up to be dandelions. Isn't that sad?"

Ruff had picked a bad time to be in a weird mood.

Astrid sat down in the grass next to her friend, and watched her blow a few more seeds away, without saying anything. At last, Ruff turned to her and exclaimed, "Come on, Astrid. You've got something on your mind. Spill it!"

"Those seeds aren't the only ones that will never fulfill their destiny," Astrid said softly.

"Are you still moping over Hiccup?"

"It's a lot more than moping, Ruff. I just... I don't know how I'm supposed to live now."

"What do you mean?" Ruffnut's attention was fully on her friend now.

"Well, we've tried avoiding each other, and that doesn't work. We've tried acting normal, and that doesn't work. He can't leave Berk, I've got no other place to go... we just don't know what we should do with each other."

"You've really got it bad for him, haven't you?"

Astrid looked down. "You know the answer to that question."

"Yeah, I guess I do." Ruff blew another dandelion away. "I also know the solution. There's one thing the two of you probably haven't tried yet. You need to just get a room and get it out of your systems, once and for all."

Astrid was shocked. "Ruffnut, you can't be serious!"

"Hey, you want to be married, right? But they won't let you, right? So take what you can get, while you can still get it!"

Astrid stood angrily. "That is the most immoral, un-Viking-like, disgusting –"

"...Tempting," Ruff cut in.

"– indecent, unladylike, untraditional –"

"...Tempting," Ruff repeated, her smirk growing.

"– dishonest, immoral –"

"You already said that," Ruff interrupted. "Now look me in the eye and tell me it's not tempting!"

Astrid glared at her and burst out, "I _hate_ you, Ruffnut Thorston!" She stormed away.

_If I'd had that idea, I'd hate myself for thinking of it,_ she thought. _Now I have to deal with the idea anyway. Because – oh, may the gods help me! It __is__ tempting._

As the sun was setting, she went looking for Hiccup. He wasn't in the forge, or the Mead Hall, or at home, and Toothless was nowhere to be found. There was only one place where he might be. She went to find Stormfly.

They almost never spent time in the cove together, by unspoken agreement. It wasn't wise for young people who were attracted to each other to be alone in such a remote place; that was how accidents happened, with consequences that came due nine months later. Now that he was engaged, spending time alone with a girl wasn't just a bad idea; it was culturally forbidden. She didn't care. She had to talk to him. Stormfly knew the way.

Hiccup was lying in the moss, twirling a white wildflower in his fingers, a few feet away from a napping Toothless. He rose as she landed and dismounted, and walked to meet her halfway. They stopped, about five feet apart. "Hi, Astrid. What's going on?"

"I just had a really upsetting talk with Ruffnut."

Hiccup rolled his eyes. "Let me guess. She thinks you ought to marry her brother?"

"Eww! No, it's worse than that."

"Yow! That's got to be pretty bad!" Hiccup exclaimed. "What did she say?"

"I was telling her about how us avoiding each other doesn't work, and acting normal doesn't work, and... she says we ought to just... get alone together and... do everything, and... get it out of our systems."

Hiccup sucked in his breath, and held it. He slowly let it out. "Do you think we should?"

"I was going to ask you that."

He stared at the ground. If he said he'd never considered such a thing, it would be a lie. He was a boy! She was a girl! She was beautiful! They were young and in love! But Viking culture came down hard on people who broke the cultural rules. If they did it and it became known, either one of Astrid's relatives or one of Thora's relatives might very well kill him. Not just beat him up, but really kill him. Even if they let him live, it would be the end of the marriage and the peace deal with the Meatheads. He looked at the lovely girl before him, who was waiting for him to make the decision for both of them, and he felt the weight of his duty pressing down on him like a sixteen-ton weight on his chest.

"We can't," he finally said. "That kind of thing is supposed to bond a couple together. If we already know we're being torn apart, and we do something like that, it will just make things worse for us. That's assuming we don't get caught in the act, and you don't get... you know... with a baby, either of which would get me killed."

"I think I knew that," she nodded.

"They took our future away," he said, and thought, _If she makes one move toward me, I'm going to hold her and never let her go._

"I hate them for that," she agreed, and thought, _If he makes just one move in my direction, I'll throw my arms around him forever, and Loki can take the stupid treaty._

They stood staring at each other for several seconds. Then Hiccup felt a quick pain where his metal leg joined the rest of him. He leaned forward to massage it –

She saw him lean toward her, and lunged at him –

He saw her lunge toward her, and opened his arms –

...and in a moment, they were lying side by side on the ground with their arms wrapped around each other, he had never held her that tightly before, and he could feel her trembling, or maybe it was him, he couldn't tell, maybe it was both of them, and he filled each breath with the scent of whatever she washed her hair with, and it was sweet and spicy and exciting, and he knew that if he slid his hand down her back a little further, he would touch her someplace where he wasn't supposed to, but he knew she wouldn't resist him tonight, she might even like it, and it was just a matter of seconds before she started kissing him, and once she did that, all their passions would boil over, and they would do something in this quiet, dark cove that was irrevocable and forbidden, you were supposed to wait until you were married to do that, but they could never marry now, and he wanted her and she wanted him and this might be the only chance they would ever have...

...and a rising pain in his legs ruined the moment. He had to push her away. "OWW! Your spikes... your skirt!"

She looked mortified. "Oh, Hiccup, I'm so sorry! I'll..." She froze, and he realized she was on the verge of saying, "I'll take it off." But she couldn't – their moment had passed. Trying to bring it back would feel artificial. Giving in to the moment was one thing; faking the moment... they couldn't do it. For better or worse, they hadn't crossed over the line.

If they had followed their feelings tonight, they probably would have regretted it forever. But he had a sinking feeling they'd regret _not_ doing it, too. What do you do when life won't let you win?

For a few seconds, they were too embarrassed to look at each other. Both of them were still trembling. Finally, he spoke.

"Astrid... in less than a week, a ship is going to arrive, and a girl is going to get off it, and I'm going to marry her. All the things I dreamed of doing with you, all the things we almost did tonight, I'm going to have to do with her instead. Half the town is going to watch us the first time, just to make sure.

"I'm going to have to put you out of my mind, and give myself over to her. I might even grow to love her somehow. But the parts of my mind and my heart that you've touched... she'll never be able to touch those. Maybe she can possess me, but she can never be the one for me. Only you can do that.

"I want you to know that."

She slowly looked up and met his gaze. "Hiccup," she began, her voice breaking, "all I want out of life is for you to be happy. I wanted to be the one who made you happy, but they won't let me. Knowing that you're happy with this other girl will be hard, but if I hear that you're unhappy, that would be even worse.

"If your heart is safe with her, then give it to her. If you can find peace in her arms, then go there. Making yourself unhappy... won't make me happy. I don't know if anything ever will, but..." She sniffed. "I have to go now!" She ran away sobbing, leaped onto Stormfly's back, and flew away into the darkening sky.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 10

The Meatheads' ship bobbed gently on the waves. It had been a peaceful journey, which was fitting for a trip that was meant to bring peace to two tribes and two villages.

Mogadon had brought a few of his leading citizens as wedding guests; they would also serve as his honor guards and as witnesses of the consummation. He also brought his brother Megadeth and family, a second cousin the bride's age (she and Thora's sister would be the bride's attendants), and his own son Thuggory, who was on a mission to do the same thing Hiccup had done on his visit to the Meathead town – watch, learn, and make friends.

Of course, he also brought his niece Thora, the bride-to-be. She was not as happy as brides-to-be are supposed to be. Her betrothed seemed very unlikely to succeed, or make her happy, or do much of anything useful. She would do what she had to do, because she'd been raised that way, but no one could make her like it. If the peace treaty between her people and Berk required her to marry the son of their chief, she would endure it for her people's sake, even if he _was_ only half a man.

Their destination was looming up in the morning mists. It seemed to float above those mists, like a green and gray island on a light-gray sea. Thora wasn't accustomed to so much dark green. Most of her home island was given over to pasture land for the grazing animals that formed much of their diet. Berk had a forest. Berk subsisted on fish and chicken. Berk's pasture land was mostly used for sheep, and the sheep were mostly used for wool, not food. Just how many changes did they think she could adjust to in such a short time?

They could see the two fiery light-towers that marked the safe entrance to the harbor. Mogadon gave the orders; the sail came down, and his men ran out their oars. This wasn't the first time a Meathead ship had entered Berk harbor, but it was the first time they'd come openly. Their ship would dock in a few minutes, and they would disembark on the island of their hereditary enemies, and live among them for a week and a half – three days of preparation, a week for the wedding and reception, and a day to pack up and go. All except for Thora, whom they would leave behind to live there for the rest of her life.

Suddenly, Thuggory gasped and pointed. Everyone else looked. Mogadon gave a quick order, and the rowers pulled in their oars and grabbed their weapons. Berk was in the middle of a dragon attack!

All the men on this ship had also been on that last raid. They remembered the ferocity of the dragons they'd fought in Berk's streets that time. What appalling luck – every time they came to Berk, whether in war or in peace, the dragons got there first! The town's houses and storage buildings were covered with the beasts; unless the Meatheads were lucky, it was just a matter of time before the big lizards saw the ship and swooped down on it. Everyone on the ship held their breath, as though the sound of their breathing from a quarter of a mile away would draw the dragons' attention. They waited and watched. They watched and waited some more.

They all knew plenty about dragon attacks, and there was something _very_ strange about _this_ dragon attack.

There was no smoke rising from the town, except a few wisps that looked more like chimney smoke than the aftereffects of dragon fire. There were no flames at all. They could see a few sailors tending their ships in the harbor, as though nothing unusual was going on. And the dragons themselves... weren't moving. They were just perching on the roofs. Some of them appeared to be asleep.

"I've never seen anything like it," Megadeth advised his brother. "At this distance, we're fairly safe. I say we stay here until we figure out what's going on up there."

Mogadon nodded. This was something strange and unknown in a familiar place, and most Vikings didn't like things like that. They floated on the sea, not moving, just watching and speculating.

A half hour went by. An hour went by. Nothing seemed to be happening. Had the dragons turned Berk into a ghost town? Some of the warriors on the ship began to talk of turning around and going home. That was when they noticed one dragon headed straight at them.

"Monstrous Nightmare," Megadeth decided. "Nothing else is that big. Now we're in trouble."

"Women to the stern of the ship!" Mogadon ordered. "Men to the bow! Ready your weapons! We've got no place to go, so we'll fight to the end!" Everyone hurried to obey his orders.

As the flying death-dealer grew closer, all eyes were riveted on it. Megadeth's eyes were keener than many, and what he saw bothered him. "That thing looks wrong. There's something about its head or its neck that's out of place."

Everyone stared. Someone muttered, "If I didn't know better, I'd swear someone is _riding_ that dragon."

"Yes, that's exactly what it looks like," Mogadon agreed. "That's nonsense, of course." It continued getting closer, and nonsense turned into possibility, and then into certainty. That didn't make it any easier to deal with.

"It's almost in spear-throwing range," Megadeth said casually, as though their lives weren't hanging in the balance.

"Hold your weapons!" Mogadon ordered. He believed in spearing dragons, not sparing them, but if the dragon's rider was from Berk, then killing him wouldn't be a good way to start the wedding celebration. Nothing that was happening made any sense to him!

The dragon flew past the ship at close range without flaming. They could see that the rider was a teen-aged boy, and a good specimen of Viking-ness. Thora felt a pang of regret that she couldn't have married this brave dragon-riding boy instead of the one she was stuck with.

Now the dragon banked into a tight turn. It circled the ship closely, and the boy shouted, "The chief of Berk sends his greetings to the illustrious Meatheads, and you are welcome to dock whenever you're ready!"

"What about the dragons?" Mogadon shouted back.

"They look scary, but they won't bother you unless you've got fish," the boy called. The dragon jerked its head around at the mention of the word "fish." The young man said something quietly to his mount, which resumed level flight.

"Who are you?" Megadeth shouted.

"I am Snotlout, son of Spitelout, nephew of the chief," the boy answered proudly. "He saw you floating out here, not moving, and thought you needed help, so he sent me and my dragon as messengers."

Mogadon glanced at his brother, who shrugged. Whatever was going on in that village, they'd never sort it out while they remained at sea. "We don't need help! Tell your chief that the luscious Meatheads will –"

"Illustrious," his brother whispered.

"Yes, of course. The industrious Meatheads will be docking immediately," he shouted. The boy saluted, and the dragon turned back toward Berk.

"Oarsmen, to your oars!" the Meathead chief bellowed. "I want our entrance to be fast and impressive!" His men bent to their task, and made the ship glide through the waters at a pretty good clip. They passed between the fire-towers without drawing any attention from the dragons, and were soon pulling alongside the docks.

An official greeting party met them there, led by Stoick himself. He was accompanied by half a dozen warriors in full battle dress, but with no weapons bigger than their belt seaxes. "Meatheads, we welcome you to Berk!" Stoick shouted, in a voice that matched Mogadon's bellowing. "We hope that this joyous occasion will be the start of many years of peace between our people!"

"The Meatheads look forward to enjoying Berk's hospitality!" Mogadon roared back, unwilling to be outshouted. "Where is the lucky young man who will marry my lovely niece?"

"Hiccup could not attend this grand occasion; he had other commitments!" Stoick bellowed. "I promise, when it is time for him to get married, he _will_ attend!"

"He'd better!" Mogadon almost screamed. The men who came with him laughed at that comment as they climbed over the gunwales and onto the docks.

None of them noticed the thin, brown-haired boy who watched them from the cliffs above.

"Hiccup! Ye better get back 'ere!" Gobber called, in a pale imitation of the shouting match taking place in the harbor. "Ye promised ye'd be takin' a quick look, an' nothin' more! I'm gonna lose the temper in this metal if it cools off any more!"

"Coming, Gobber!" Hiccup called as he ran back to the forge. "I just wanted to see what my future wife looks like." He threw himself into pumping the bellows, fanning the forge so Gobber could curve a long dagger into a pruning-hook for cutting off tree branches.

"Well, out with it!" the smith demanded. "What does the lucky lassie look like?"

"I still can't tell," the boy said sadly. "There were three girls on the ship, and they all looked the same from this distance. I have no idea which one is for me."

"Maybe they'll let ye pick the one ye like the best," Gobber chuckled.

"If they let me pick, I _know_ who I'd choose," Hiccup said quietly.

Gobber cuffed him on the shoulder, a little harder than usual. "No more moonin' about after you-know-who," he admonished him. "_That_ ship has sailed. Ye've got a weddin' comin' right up. _Your_ weddin'. That means married to one girl, just _one_." He leaned closer, as though someone might overhear him. "Hiccup, we all know what ye're goin' through, an' we all feel bad for ye. But a Viking's gotta do what a Viking's gotta do. Right now, that means pumpin' those bellows a little harder. In three days, it means takin' that Meathead girl as yer wife, an' puttin' all other girls behind ye. _All_ of 'em!"

"Thanks, Gobber," Hiccup grunted as he leaned into the bellows. "I knew I could count on you to say something comforting."

"We-e-ell, if it's comfort ye want, then think about this," the old smith grinned. "Yonder lassie on th' docks down there? Did it ever occur to ye that she might be just as nervous about this whole thing as ye are?"

No, that hadn't occurred to him. He'd been kind of preoccupied with his own misery, and Astrid's. Maybe he might have felt some compassion for this girl if she had a face to go with her name. But Gobber was right – whoever she was, she probably had been given no more choice in the matter than he'd had. Maybe she'd even had to give up a boyfriend for the sake of her tribe, much like he had to do.

Maybe, maybe, maybe! He just didn't _know_ anything about her, and it was driving him crazy! He threw his weight onto the bellows, and Gobber resumed his work, loudly singing to the rhythm of his hammer –

"Well, I've got my axe, and I've got my mace,  
"And I love my wife with the ugly face!  
"I'm a Viking through and through!"

_Thank you so much, Gobber, _Hiccup thought. _That's __so__ encouraging at a time like this!_

Down on the docks, the Meatheads had all disembarked, and were standing in a tight cluster. Megadeth took it on himself to speak for all of them. "There's something strange happening in this town. The dragons, I mean. If we're going to live here for a week and a half, we need to know what's going on."

Stoick nodded, and addressed his answer to Mogadon. "Berk has made peace with the dragons. They don't raid us anymore, and we don't kill them anymore. They come and they go as they please, they eat our leftover fish, and some of us have formed bonds of friendship with some of them."

"You feed dragons." Mogadon wasn't asking a question; it was an accusation. Stoick nodded.

"You _ride_ dragons?" Megadeth asked.

"You've seen my nephew on his Monstrous Nightmare," Berk's chief replied. "He's one of many. It took some of us a while to adjust to them, and I understand your nervousness. But one of the terms of living here is that the dragons are _not_ to be bothered."

Mogadon didn't like that at all. "Some of my men are just one dragon-head away from their 'dragon dozen,' Stoick. Asking them to keep their weapons sheathed when that kind of glory is within their reach... you ask too much."

"Surely a chief like you can keep his men under control?" Stoick wasn't asking a question; it was a challenge. Mogadon scowled, but nodded.

"Good," the chief of Berk went on, jovial again. "Let me show you to your guest home. I had it built specially for you, at the same time as my son was building his own house. I'm sure you will find it satisfactory." The parade of Vikings made their way up the winding ramps from harbor level to the town itself.

Megadeth leaned toward his brother and murmured, "No wonder we took such a beating on that last raid! The dragons weren't raiding Berk – they were _guarding_ it!"

Thuggory quietly added, "If Berk controls dragons, then we have _got_ to make this treaty last! Can you imagine what our town would look like if Vikings and dragons raided us together?"

Mogadon nodded. "I hope Thora knows how much is riding on her shoulders. Now more than ever."

"I raised her right," Megadeth replied. "She'll do her duty."

The object of their concern was staring up, wide-eyed, at the town and its reptilian residents. She leaned over to her younger sister Alfdis and whispered, "Am I going to have to live with _dragons_ for the rest of my life?"

"That sounds scary," her sister agreed. "They _look_ scary."

Thora nodded. "Just when I was getting used to this whole idea, they throw _dragons_ into the mix! How many other nasty surprises are they going to hit me with?"

"Remember your duty," Thuggory whispered harshly.

Thora rolled her eyes. "Duty!" She spat on the ground. "I just hope the chief marries _you_ off to a mermaid princess, and you have to spend the rest of _your_ life under water!"


	11. Chapter 11

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 11

The Meatheads spent a peaceful, but not uneventful, three days in Berk, awaiting the beginning of the wedding celebration.

Of course, the hardest thing to adjust to was the dragons. They hadn't raided the Meatheads' islands in months, but that meant nothing – they always came back. All of those cattle and pigs were too tempting a target for the thieving lizards. Every Meathead grew up with the saying, "The only good dragon is a dead dragon."

Now they were surrounded by dragons, and they were forbidden to lay a finger on them. It was unnatural!

The dragons ignored them, for the most part. Their main concerns seemed to be eating and sleeping, and flying when they felt like it. As Stoick had mentioned, some of them had become friends with the Berk Vikings, and those friendly Vikings rode the great beasts into the sky, sometimes for just a few minutes, sometimes for hours. Megadeth asked around, and learned that the island's teen-agers were the authorities on just about everything to do with dragons.

"A Dragon Training Academy?" Mogadon burst out. "They've made a _school_ for handling those evil reptiles? How much schooling does it take to learn how to throw a net and thrust with a spear?"

"That's not how they do things here, Mogadon," his brother answered. "I've seen this Academy. It used to be their dragon-training ring; now they actually teach people how to get along with dragons! That young man who rode the Monstrous Nightmare was there, and – chief, I swear, I am not making this up – he was giving that thing a _belly-rub_ with a _rake!_ It just rolled over and let him do it!"

Mogadon was thoughtful, which was unusual for him. "Do you think we can steal a few of their dragon secrets while we're here?"

"Probably," Megadeth replied, "but I don't think we'll have to steal them. Everyone I talked to was quite open about the dragons and how they get along with them. Everyone except a strange old man named Mildew, who still hates dragons. He seems to be the exception to the rule. For the rest of them... all we have to do is ask questions, and I think they'll tell us what we want to know."

"If we ask too many questions, they'll get suspicious," Mogadon decided.

"Then _we_ won't ask the questions," his brother suggested with a sudden grin. "We'll let Berk's newest citizen find out everything she can about the dragons of her new town – what could be more natural than that? She can send back written reports on the trading ships."

"Thora?" The chief matched his brother's grin. "That's perfect! We'll have her ask that simple-minded little husband of hers. He'll never suspect a thing!"

They couldn't inform Thora of her new mission right away; they couldn't find her. She wasn't that interested in the dragons. For her, the most interesting feature of Berk was the forest. Her home islands hadn't had any forest in generations; on Berk, the woods were big enough and deep enough to get lost in. She stayed on the paths – she had no outdoorsman's skills – but even that much was amazing to her. She wandered into the forest as soon as breakfast was done, came out in time for lunch, and then went right back in again.

She'd never seen trees like these. There was enough wood here to build several fleets of longships! Why did Berk preserve all this standing timber when the land could be put to better use? These people weren't idiots; there must be a good reason for doing things this way.

She was beginning to lose her confidence in her situation. She wasn't just moving from one Viking town to another; she was moving to a town full of a different kind of Viking. Clearly, she had a lot to learn about this place. She didn't want to ask a bunch of questions that would seem stupid to the hearer, but she wasn't sure how else to get the answers she needed.

As she walked, she heard a "whack" sound. She froze; she didn't know what kinds of noises were normal in a forest, and which noises she should be concerned about. After about half a minute, she heard it again. She walked toward the sound slowly, as quietly as she could. Perhaps someone was chopping down a tree? If they were, she wanted to watch.

As she got closer, she heard that each "whack" was preceded by a scream. It sounded like a woman's yell. Did the women tend the trees around here?

She looked around a rock, and watched a girl her age pull a double-bladed axe out of a tree trunk. She stepped off twenty steps, then suddenly turned, screamed a battle cry, and threw the axe. It flew straight through the air and embedded itself into the tree. The girl's target was _not_ the fattest tree in the forest; she was a pretty good shot with that axe. With her spiked skirt and shoulder armor, she looked the part of a warrior. She was also quite pretty.

As she retrieved her axe, Thora coughed quietly. The girl looked up, startled. For a moment, she drew up her axe to throw it, but saw Thora and relaxed. "Hello," she called. "I didn't hear you coming."

"I didn't mean to sneak up on you," Thora said quietly, and stepped out from behind the rock.

"You're new here," the girl commented. "Are you here for the wedding?"

"Yes, I am," Thora replied (that was no lie!). "I love this place. We don't have forests on my home islands."

"I couldn't live that way," the girl answered. "Where do _you_ go when you need to get away from everything?"

"I just walk in the pastures," she replied. "I'm not hidden or anything, but the island is big enough, I don't bump into anybody except the ones who say 'moo'." She looked up into the trees, amazed that they partially blocked the sunlight. "If you don't mind my asking, what are you getting away from?"

The girl shook her head. "Life. The universe. Everything."

"That sounds serious," Thora nodded. She couldn't say why, but she liked this girl.

"You have no idea," the girl said sadly. "I used to think there weren't any problems I couldn't solve with a well-aimed axe throw, but now..." She picked up her axe. "I should be getting home; I have some chores to do."

"See you at the wedding, if not before?" Thora asked hopefully.

The girl had started to walk away, but she jerked to a stop. "No," she said quietly. "I'm not going."

"Not going?" Thora was amazed. "They told me this was Berk's biggest party in three generations! Why wouldn't you go?"

The girl looked away and sighed. "I have my reasons."

"They must be heavy reasons."

"Can I tell you something..." The girl paused. "What's your name?"

"Thora."

The girl went pale and nearly dropped her axe. "_You're Thora?!_"

"Yes, the last time I looked. Does that mean something to –" Before she could finish, the girl had spun and run away at full speed.

_I just got here,_ Thora thought, _and she's already afraid of my name. Why? She looks like a good person to have as a friend, and a bad one to have as an enemy. I'll need to make this right before much else happens; I don't want to start my new life on the wrong foot._

She wandered in the woods for another hour, then headed out. Maybe wandering around the town might be beneficial, too. After all, she didn't know anyone. There had to be some other people her own age around here somewhere! She wandered and she looked, without success. She finally resorted to asking someone where she could find the young man who rode the big dragon.

"He's probably down at the Dragon Training Academy," the man said. "That's where all the young dragon riders spend their time when they aren't in the air or doing their chores." He gave her simple directions; she found the place after a few minutes.

As she approached, she heard raucous laughter. It might be good to get some idea of what was going on around here before she barged in. She stopped outside the entrance and listened.

"That trick is _so_ old!" she heard a girl's rough voice say. "We ought to try something new. I say we put castor oil in the ceremonial mead goblet! They won't dare spit it out in front of everybody – they'll have to swallow it!" A few male voices laughed. Thora recognized the reference to part of the traditional wedding reception. They were planning pranks on her! Why would they do that? They didn't even know her!

"I think we ought to nail a board across the doorway to the Hall!" a young man exclaimed. "That way, when he tries to help her across the threshold, she'll trip and fall! Their whole married life will be cursed!" A few others laughed at that.

"Guys, I really think this is a bad idea," a high male voice answered. "He's going to be nervous enough, and you know he's not happy about this whole thing anyway. Why do you want to make it worse for him?"

"Because it's fun!" the second voice replied.

Now she understood. These pranks weren't aimed at her, but at her husband (although they would affect her just as much as him). Apparently, these were his friends. Okay, she wouldn't take their idea of "fun" personally, although she'd have to be on her guard through the entire ceremony. But what did the last voice mean about "he's not happy about this whole thing anyway"?

She knew she wasn't the prettiest girl in the Northland, but she certainly wasn't ugly, either. She'd been told that she had a nice personality. Her sense of humor was unconventional, but at least she could laugh at other people's jokes. She could cook a good meal. Her dowry would be adequate for a chief's son. What could that boy possibly find in her that made him unhappy?

She made her way back toward the guest home. Her opinion of her future husband had gone down another notch.


	12. Chapter 12

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 43

The big day had finally come.

Thora had been half-led, half-dragged by a giggling pack of women to Berk's bath house, where she had been summarily stripped and thrown into a vat of steaming water mixed with herbs. It was like bathing in tea. The idea was to wash away every vestige of her single past, and leave her clean and ready for marriage. It also ensured that she would smell nice, and the women used the time to tell her all the things she needed to know about making her husband happy.

The only woman in the crowd whom she knew was her mother; all the others were from Berk. She actually preferred it that way. Some of their suggestions were so personal, so intimate, it would have been humiliating beyond words to hear them from people she knew. Hearing it from strangers was bad enough.

"We all know there are two ways to a man's heart," someone's aunt said. "One way is through his stomach, and the other way... is a little further south than that." They all giggled, except for Thora.

A kindly-looking woman from Berk added, "Most of us agree, the first way is a lot more work, but it gives better results in the long run."

"How does that work?" a brown-haired Berk girl wondered. She was probably still a newlywed herself.

"The general idea is to get him in the habit of thinking nice thoughts about you," the kindly woman answered. "Once they get in that habit, the love usually follows. It might be hot and passionate, or it might be warm and caring; that depends on the man. The one thing you _don't_ want to do is nag him."

"I don't know about that," an older woman commented. "Sometimes you have to do whatever works."

"It's not worth it," the kindly woman said firmly, and Thora's mother nodded. "You can make him obedient that way, but you'll also make him miserable, and if your goal is for him to make you happy, you'll _never_ get what you want." Thora decided she'd have to think that over. They shoved her under the water again, and when she came up, they launched into an extremely graphic description of what was likely to happen between her and her husband that night. She felt sick and tried to hide underwater, but they just waited until she came up for air, and resumed their horror story.

"You're probably thinking of all kinds of ways you can get out of this," the kindly woman said, with a bit of an edge in her voice. "_Don't_. We all went through it, and we're all still alive. You'll get through it, too. If it doesn't happen, then there's no marriage, and you know what that means."

_They can take their marriage and sink it to the bottom of the North Sea, with their precious treaty right next to it,_ she thought. _I am __not__ doing __any__ of those things, not with __him__!_

"Besides, it gets better, once you've trained him to slow down and be gentle," the aunt added. "That can take a while, though." Most of them nodded.

A few hundred feet away, in the men's bath house, Hiccup was undergoing similar indignities. If anything, his ordeal was worse, because there were more Meatheads in the crowd that was washing _his_ bachelorhood away. The men from Berk gave the same kinds of advice, but they were merely coarse about it; the Meatheads were downright obscene.

Viking parents didn't have "The Talk" with their children. That information was passed on, in its embarrassing entirety, during these ritual bathings. For the men, that meant an informal contest to see who could make the groom blush the reddest.

"Always remember, women never say what they really mean," one of Mogadon's guards said. "If she says, 'Stop,' that means keep going. If she says, 'Slow down,' that means go faster. If she says it hurts, that means she likes it, so do it some more."

"And if she wants to stay up and talk afterwards, that's the kiss of death for a good Viking marriage," another Meathead added. "You have to show her who's the man of the house, by doing things _your_ way. That usually means you'll want to roll over and fall asleep. You'll have earned it, and it's natural."

"If she gouges up your back with her fingernails, that's natural for _her,_" said another man. "Just ignore it the best you can."

"You guys make this sound like I'm getting into the ring with a wild dragon," Hiccup protested.

"A wild dragon! Yeah, that's about right!" Mogadon shouted with delight. "Claws, teeth, bad temper... she'll have it all!" That set off a round of raucous laughter from everyone in the chamber except Hiccup. They then proceeded to describe, in agonizing detail, exactly what he was expected to do to her.

_I can't do this,_ Hiccup thought. _I might have done it to Astrid, if she really wanted me to, but to a total stranger? No! I can't! And yet... I have to._

"Oh, and remember the best part," a Berk sheep-owner crowed. "We're all going to be watching!"

Hiccup had an inspired thought. _Is this bathing vat deep enough for me to drown in?_

As the men piled detail on terrifying detail, the women wrapped Thora in some blankets and hustled her back to the guest home. There, they dried her off, brushed out her hair, dressed her in her best clothing, and settled the bridal crown on her head and pinned it in place. The crown was a family heirloom, passed down from mother to daughter for at least four generations. It was made of bronze plated with gold, with multiple spires, around which the women had woven a second crown of wild flowers.

It was beautiful.

It was _heavy_.

She tried to look at her shoes and nearly lost her balance. _Well, this is just too much fun,_ she thought. _How am I supposed to cross the threshold without tripping if I can't look down to see it? Now our marriage is __really__ doomed._

Hiccup's dressing ritual went a lot faster; all he had to do was get dried and dressed. He'd oiled his metal leg the night before, so it wouldn't squeak during the ceremony. Now he sat in the house that was his, and would soon be his and hers, and waited nervously for that ceremony to begin.

Toothless lay on the floor next to him, puzzled by all this unusual activity. Hiccup had made a point of taking off his riding gear as soon as their early-morning ride was done. If his big black friend was still ready for flight, the temptation to fly away and disappear would have been overwhelming.

At last, his father stepped into the open doorway, flanked by Spitelout and Gobber. "It's time," Stoick said.

_That's what they tell condemned men just before their execution,_ Hiccup thought as he stood.

The men led him to a little-used clearing near the forest. The Norse gods played only a ceremonial role in the lives of Berk's Vikings, but when it came to important matters like launching a ship, choosing a new chief, or performing a marriage, no one was willing to shut them out completely. The village priest had very little to do in the way of religious labor, which is why he spent most of his days helping the fishermen mend their nets instead.

Today, however, was a wedding, and a very important one. There had to be an animal sacrifice, and prayers, and invocations and ceremonies of various kinds. Hiccup never had much use for any of those rituals. He spent most of the ceremony taking his first good look at his new bride.

Thora was a bit shorter than him, and slightly on the plump side. Her face was cute rather than beautiful, with a slightly upturned nose, full lips, and dark blue eyes that seemed to take in much but approve of very little. Her hair was thick and golden, but surprisingly short – it barely reached past her shoulders. Her cheeks were red, but whether that was due to natural color, some emotion she was feeling, or makeup, he could not tell. She might be halfway pretty if she smiled. As it was, she would be considered reasonably good-looking by any Viking whose heart wasn't already full of someone else.

She hardly looked at him during the entire religious ceremony. At one point, when the priest called on Thor to bless the happy couple, she rolled her eyes. _There's one thing we have in common,_ Hiccup thought. _I wonder if there's more._

Stoick, as the village chief, now took charge of the ceremony. "Present the swords," he commanded. Thuggory, representing the Meatheads, stepped forward, holding out a long sheathed sword in both hands. Snotlout did the same for the people of Berk. Each of them drew his sword in turn at Stoick's nod.

The sword of the Meatheads drew some ooh's and ahh's when Thuggory drew it. It was a fine weapon – double-edged and sharpened like a razor. Ocean-wave patterns were engraved on the full length of the blade. The hilt was shaped like a longship, with engraved anchor ropes running down the handle to the anchor that decorated the pommel. It would have been the centerpiece of any wedding... except this one.

When Snotlout drew the sword Hiccup had made, it drew gasps from everyone present. They _knew_ that sword! "The Stormblade!" several of them exclaimed. This was one of the most famous swords in Viking history! How had Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III taken possession of it? They all looked to him for an answer.

"It's a replica," he shrugged. That took nothing away from his achievement – it was a near-perfect replica, from the shape of the blade down to the smallest decoration on the pommel. He'd even treated the flat of the blade with acid to make it look ancient. Everyone there knew the work of a master swordsmith when they saw it, and from the Meatheads who knew that Hiccup was responsible, he began to receive something like respect. Stoick smiled – Hiccup had kept that part of his agreement, and scored some points off the Meatheads in the process. But most of the guests didn't know who the swordsmith was.

Snotlout passed the sword – almost reverently, it seemed – to Hiccup, while Thuggory gave his sword to his cousin. Bride and groom held their swords straight up and down with one hand, and reached out with their other hand. Fishlegs, as Hiccup's attendant, slipped the bride's wedding ring into the groom's open hand, as Alfdis did the same for Thora. They balanced their rings on the tips of their swords, prepared to pass them to each other, and the bride whispered her first words to her husband. "Don't mess this up."

He nodded mutely. The exchange of swords went perfectly, as though they'd practiced it before. Each reached up, claimed the ring on the end of the sword they now held, and slipped it onto their left ring fingers.

Now came a part they were both dreading – the exchange of vows. What kinds of promises can you make to a total stranger? They didn't have a formula to recite, like in some cultures' weddings; they had to write their own vows. Those who were bad at writing were allowed to get help from friends, but that was considered cheating if you were able to do it yourself.

Hiccup had labored hard over his vows. He was better with drawing and metalwork than with words, but he was determined to do his best, especially since his father had demanded that he write something moving. What would his father consider "moving?" Probably a story about rending his foes' arms off in battle, and that probably wouldn't play well at a wedding. He had only his own ideas to fall back on; he hoped they were good enough.

They turned to face each other, he took a deep breath, and began.

"Two islands, both alike in dignity,  
"Yet many times they battled long and hard.  
"To bring the peace, a marriage was arranged,  
"And that is why we gather here today."

"It's true, my bride and I have never met;  
"Two strangers who are destined to be one.  
"To state my life's intent in simple words  
"Is more than any Viking man could do."

"But still, I give my word before you all –  
"This woman will receive my very best.  
"Protection, honor, kindness and respect,  
"And any other good thing I can give."

"And also this – all faithful I will be,  
"Until they burn my bones upon the sea."

Dead silence followed. Stoick wasn't quite sure what to make of this, until he saw a few of the women dabbing at their eyes. _I guess that means it was good,_ he thought. _He's kept his part of the deal._

Thora had a slightly harder time listening to her husband's vows. She was determined not to think anything good or nice about him, and he was making it difficult. She couldn't have imagined what he was going to say, and now that he'd said it, she couldn't imagine anyone else could have done better. He certainly made her own vows seem pale by comparison, but it was kind of late to rewrite them now. She took a breath and repeated what she'd been practicing for weeks.

"Today, you become my husband. Today, I become your wife.

"Fate and luck brought us together. Duty and honor will keep us together. We are Vikings – we rise above petty, passing emotions to always do what is right.

"As your wife, I promise to honor you, serve you, delight you, and support you. I promise that, of all the lands and places we know, our home will be the place you most want to be. I accept your people as my people, your tribe as my tribe, your name as my name. My highest goals in life will be your glory, your success, and your happiness.

"May nothing but the grave separate us, from this day forward."

She hoped that sounded good. She still hadn't figured out how to reconcile her words with her intentions toward him. Well, she had the rest of her life to work that out.

Many Viking wedding ceremonies would now include a race between the groom's guests and the bride's guests to the Mead Hall, where the losers in the race would serve the winners. Berk was too small and crowded a town for a race like that, so the entire group marched solemnly up to the Mead Hall.

Here, at the doorway, was the next challenge for bride and groom. She had to step across the threshold, with her husband's help; if she tripped in any way, it was a bad omen for their marriage. The main doors had no threshold, so they used a side door that would serve as a proper obstacle to married bliss.

She could see, as she approached it, that someone had nailed an extra-wide board across the doorway, raising the threshold to absurdly high levels. If she could step over _that,_ it would be a fine omen indeed! Then she was next to it, and she couldn't look down at it without falling over from the weight of the crown on her head.

Her husband extended his hand. She had no choice. She had to take it. His hand felt damp and clammy. She stepped up.

"Higher," he whispered. "Much higher." Well, at least he was trying to be helpful. She stepped as high as her dress allowed her to, and stepped over. She made no contact with that hideous threshold.

"That was good," he whispered. Well, _duh!_ Of course it was good – it worked, didn't it? Then she realized he was telling her something – that her other foot had to go just as high. She slowly swung herself over and...

...tripped.

Hiccup's arm shot out and caught her around the waist, or at least, he tried to. He had no arm strength to hold her up, but he slowed her fall just enough for her to regain her footing before she fell flat.

The guests gasped. She didn't actually fall, but she _did_ trip – was it a bad omen or not? They would have to consult with Gothi to find out for sure. Hiccup glared at the extra board, tried to kick it out of the way, hurt his foot in the attempt, and entered the Hall behind his wife.

They were led to the head table, where they sat and looked around them. The Hall was filled with people of all ages; the adults were mostly watching her and Hiccup, while the young ones just wanted to know when they could eat. The serving tables along the sides of the Hall were piled high with food of all kinds – this was the wedding of the only son of Berk's chief, and Stoick had spared no expense. But before the food was served, there were some more rituals that had to be observed.

First, Hiccup was called to the center of the room. Thora almost couldn't bear to watch. He had to throw his sword so that it sank into one of the columns that held up the roof; if it bounced off, it meant even more bad luck for both of them. She'd seen him in action with a practice sword, and she expected nothing better now, even though he was throwing her people's best blade. If he were lucky, he wouldn't cut himself.

He drew the sword with a ringing sound, held it by the flat of the blade like a spear, and threw it. It wobbled slightly, but it hit the column point-first...

...and somehow stayed where it hit. Evidently, it had struck the hole where a sword from the past had hit, and that allowed it to sink in just enough.

A cheer went up. There were no more tests of good luck and bad luck for them, and that was good. The omens were mixed, with more good than bad. Perhaps she _could_ work this whole thing out to her advantage.

As he returned to his seat, her mother motioned to her from the kitchen. She was holding a large two-handled tankard. It was the ceremonial mead that they had to drink together. Thora got up, claimed the tankard, and hoped she wouldn't mess up the blessing as she brought it to her husband. She recited it from memory:

_"Ale I bring thee, thou oak-of-battle,  
"With strength blended and brightest honor;  
" 'Tis mixed with magic and mighty songs,  
"With goodly spells, wish-speeding runes."_

___Thou oak-of-battle?_ she thought.___Quaking-aspen-of-battle would be more like it. Oh, well._

As she held it out to him, she realized that, if his friends had followed through on their prank with the threshold, they had probably put something foul in the mead as well. He took the tankard with both hands, without much eagerness, and raised it to his lips.

Should she say something to him? He wasn't _bad;_ he was just inadequate, and he was really trying to get everything right. She made a quick decision, and said her first words of kindness to him. "Don't drink it! Fake it!" she whispered. He looked at her oddly, then faked a drink. He kept his lips tight against the tankard as he tipped it up, and drank nothing. As he passed it to her, he licked his lips, and his disgusted expression told her she'd been correct. She did as he had done, waited until the cheers subsided, then returned the tankard to the kitchen.

"Dump this _filth_ out and give us something we can actually drink!" she demanded.

The head cook looked offended. She took the tankard, sniffed it, took a quick sip – and nearly gagged. "Who did this?" she demanded. No one answered. She personally poured the offending drink down the nearest drain, rinsed out the tankard, and refilled it from a cask. "I'm so sorry!" she kept saying. "I can't imagine how this happened." Thora took the tankard and returned to the head table.

"The two of you will drink mead together for the next thirty days," Mogadon informed them, in his most formal-sounding voice. "It will help you become as one." _And that's just what I want,_ she thought sarcastically.

They were serving the food now; at last, they'd gotten to the good part of this entire ridiculous ceremony! Stoick had imported the best meats that the Meatheads had to offer, alongside the best fish and poultry from his own island. The Vikings' manners might offend members of other European civilizations, but they could not have cared less. Everyone was hungry, and the food was ready, so who cared which fork they used first? Actually, they didn't even _have_ forks; they used their belt seaxes or their fingers.

This was also the bride and groom's first chance to actually talk to each other.

Hiccup waited until she was done chewing a mouthful, then asked, "Were you the one who hit me over the head in that first mock battle?"

"No," she answered with a shake of the head. "I'm the one who pushed you from behind in the first battle, and hit you on the head in the second battle, and knocked the sword out of your hand in the third, and –"

"I think I remember you now," he nodded, and took another bite of ham. She had nothing else to say on the subject. He made no further attempts at conversation, and she made no attempts at all.

After the first course was finished, Mogadon brought out a large war hammer. Everyone paused to watch. This was probably the silliest part of the whole ceremony, in her estimation, but it could not be avoided. She pushed away from the table and sat still as her chief laid the hammer in her lap, and recited another ancient verse:

"Bring the Hammer the bride to bless:  
"On the maiden's lap lay ye Mjolnir;  
"In Vor's name then our wedlock hallow!"

He had just invoked the gods' favor on her baby-making parts. _It will be a cold day in Muspelheim when I'll be using those,_ she thought. _I suppose it's got to happen some time, but I'll make that decision, not him_.

The rest of the reception was uneventful, as far as the semi-happy couple was concerned. There were songs and dances, stories and _flytings,_ huge amounts of food, and (of course) copious quantities of mead, ale, beer, and some unfamiliar drinks Stoick had gotten from Trader Johann. Neither Hiccup nor Thora had much taste for alcohol, so they did a lot of fake-drinking when a toast was offered to them, and they were the target of many, _many_ toasts. If they had actually drunk all those toasts, they would probably be passed-out under the table by now, or (more likely) sick as dogs outside. They would have had plenty of company there.

Hiccup was feeling more awkward and nervous than at any time in his life up until now. He was married (almost), and he didn't even know how to talk to his wife! Worse, she showed no interest at all in talking to him. He'd heard that girls loved to talk, but Thora was as silent as a statue toward him. He knew he wasn't the most Viking-like man in the Northland, but her calculated indifference was like a knife in his ribs. Was he _that_ much of a disappointment to her? Had he said or done something wrong already?

There was only one person he really felt comfortable talking to about things like this, and she wasn't here.

All his friends were having a great time, laughing and sharing stories as they enjoyed Stoick's hospitality. This party was supposed to be for him and Thora, and they were the only ones who weren't enjoying it!

Then he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. It was his father, who was followed by Spitelout, Gobber, Gunnarr Hofferson, a few other warriors from Berk, and the Meathead men, minus Thuggory. "Hiccup? Thora? It's time."

Time for their wedding night. Time for the witnesses to confirm that they were, indeed, husband and wife. Time for their most private moment to be put on public display. Thora tried to keep a neutral expression, but her eyes said "horror" for anyone to see.

Hiccup shot a quick glance at the two-handled tankard of mead, which was still almost full, and thought, _I should have passed out under the table when I had the chance_.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 13

The wedding party marched slowly from the Mead Hall, downhill to Hiccup and Thora's new house. She had seen it from the outside, but she'd never been in it before. She had visions of dirty socks all over the floor, dirty dishes piled up in the kitchen, and a stuffed deer head on the wall, positioned so it was staring at her side of the bed.

She glanced at Hiccup. He'd kept looking towards her now and then throughout the reception, but now his eyes were locked straight ahead. What was he thinking; how was he feeling? Men were notorious for their appetite for what he was about to do to her – the women at the ceremonial washing had made sure she understood that – so what was his problem?

Could he actually be _nervous _about this?

At last, they came to the front door. Hiccup opened it and gestured for her to step inside. She did so. Her fears about his decorating sense were unfounded; the house was neat and clean, everything in it was new, and the only thing hanging on the wall was a pencil drawing of an unfamiliar kind of dragon. Each section of the house was lit by at least one lantern or two candles, and the fire pits added some light of their own.

_It's a nice place to visit,_ she thought, _but now I'm going to have to live here_.

Hiccup stepped in behind her. "Uhh... welcome home," he stammered. It was the first time he'd spoken to her in hours. She didn't reply. The witnesses, six Berks and six Meatheads, filed in after them, and spread out against the wall so they all had a clear view of the...

...bed.

She swallowed hard. She'd never had a boyfriend (her father would have killed any self-appointed suitors), so she had no first-hand knowledge of these matters at all. She'd talked to girls who had gotten married, of course, and they'd implied some things about men and beds that could have curled her hair. The women at the washing this morning had filled in the gaps in her knowledge, to the point where she would have much preferred to stay ignorant. But that option was gone, as were all her other options.

She'd been told what Hiccup was going to do, and how he was probably going to do it, and her only choice was to let him. Anything else would not only nullify the marriage; it would nullify the treaty, plunge her town into a war against a tribe that controlled dragons, and earn the scorn and resentment of all her people. They might even send her into exile for betraying her tribe.

For a moment, she considered if it might be worth it.

Then Mogadon growled, "Come on, you two! Get on with it! I've got a lot more drinking I want to do tonight, and you're keeping me away from the ale!" _Now that just motivates me for love and tenderness,_ she thought.

She stood next to the bed, stiff as a board. He stepped over next to her, and looked her up and down for a moment.

"I need to take your crown off," he whispered. She stared at a spot on the wall between two of the witnesses.

"Could you sit down so I can reach it, please?" he asked; he was almost begging. She didn't want to so much as _touch _that bed, but he was right – he couldn't remove the hair pins that held the crown in place if she remained standing. With all the excitement of a condemned criminal kneeling before the executioner, she sat down on the bed. His bed. Their bed.

He fumbled with the pins; it might have been unfamiliarity with women's hair accessories, or simple nervousness, or perhaps a combination of the two. He set the crown aside on the night stand, and then just stood there.

"What are you waiting for?" the Meatheads called. "You know what to do, don't you?" She realized that the men from Berk hadn't said a word since they entered the house; they stood silently, with very serious expressions. Her own people, on the other hand, apparently expected a show.

Then she looked at Hiccup. His face was a mixture of unease, discomfort, and outright terror. The women at the washing had promised her eyes that burned with lust, hands that couldn't stop wandering, and lips that would speak crudities as though they were love poems. It wasn't the first time her new husband had failed to live up to her expectations, but she was slightly glad about it this time.

"Get on with it!" the Meathead men were calling. "Kiss her already!" "Quit stalling!" "Show us what a man you are!" She was getting more displeased with the witnesses than she was with her husband, and that was really saying something.

He hesitantly sat down right next to her. Her head was flooded with memories of everything she'd been warned about. She slid away, keeping about an inch of space between them. He laid a hand on her shoulder; she flinched. He leaned over to kiss her, and she turned her head so he kissed her cheek.

"She's just being shy!" came the shouts. "Show her who's the man!" "Don't let her treat you that way!"

The shouts, the stares, his nervousness, her resistance, the fact that she wasn't who he wanted her to be, the fear of the unknown... they all came crashing down on his mind at once, and inflicted on him the cruelest fate of all.

He could not perform as a man.

At first, the witnesses thought it was some kind of joke. "Are you kidding?" "This isn't funny!" "Quit fooling around, and start fooling around!" It slowly dawned on them that the groom really couldn't... he just couldn't.

Stoick wore a disappointed scowl, like someone skimped on the meat in his sandwich. Gobber looked mournful, and hid his eyes in a prolonged facepalm. The other men from Berk hung their heads, as though his disgrace reflected on them somehow. The Meatheads, on the other hand, seemed delighted by this turn of events. It was as though they'd half-expected such a thing to happen – they had all come prepared with a choice selection of witty comments, guaranteed to make the others laugh hysterically, and make the groom contemplate suicide.

"Aww, what's the matter – is the little guy _bashful?_"  
"How can he be a Viking raider when the wind has gone out of his sails?"  
"It's dragon justice! He got the Red Death, but the Pink Death got _him!_"  
"Some bard is writing a poem about tonight. I bet I know what rhymes with 'Hiccup'!"

She just watched him out of the corner of her eye, careful to keep her face neutral. She had never seen anyone looking so miserable, even at funerals. She wasn't completely shocked by this – after all, he wasn't much of a man, right? Yet there was something _wrong _about all these grown men mocking someone who wasn't much more than a boy. Anger overtook her; she leaped to her feet.

"Oh, knock it off, all of you!" she exclaimed. "Do you think this is helping?" They ignored her and continued their mocking and shouting.

At last, Stoick stepped into the middle of the room and raised his hands for attention. "Mogadon, you and I should each choose one man to stand vigil, in case something changes during the night." He sighed deeply. "The rest of us might as well go back to the Mead Hall." The Meathead chief nodded happily at that. In less than a minute, most of the witnesses were gone. Both chiefs had chosen a warrior who had already downed a few tankards, and both remaining witnesses were snoring lustily within ten minutes.

Thora sat down on the bed again. Hiccup was lying on the other side of the bed, facing away from her. She tried to guess what he was thinking, and came up completely empty. This was one outcome she had not foreseen. She also realized that it might be partially her own fault. She refused to dwell on that aspect of it.

Finally, he spoke, quietly, sadly. "Thank you for trying to stand up for me."

"It was the right thing to do," she answered, trying not to sound too emotional about it.

"I've really done it this time," he sighed. "I've disappointed my father and my tribe lots of times, but now I've disappointed _two _chiefs and _two _tribes, not to mention my own wife... Ask me how it feels to be in the record books."

"What happens next?" she asked after a moment.

"We get three chances on three different nights," he said. "The next two nights won't be any different, right?"

"What are you going to do?"

He thought about that for a few seconds. "I'm going to do something I should have done months ago. Just fly away."

She half-chuckled at the idea. "Are you going to grow wings, or make them yourself?"

"Neither," he said. "I've already got all the wings I'll ever need." He didn't elaborate on that comment, and she didn't pursue him on it.

After a minute, she got up and blew out all the candles and lanterns in the house. After adding some wood to the fire, she lay down on her back and stared at the ceiling.

If her life was feeling like a nightmare, _his _life had apparently become even worse.

On the other hand, this might be the solution to her problems. If he defaulted on the marriage, she'd be rid of him, and no one would pin the blame on her.

That just didn't feel like a worthy thought, when she considered the skinny bag of human misery lying next to her. He hadn't actually _done _anything to deserve this. If it happened, it happened, but it wouldn't be something she'd try to arrange.

They spent the rest of their wedding night with their backs to each other, not touching each other, not talking, serenaded by the buzzsaw snoring of the two witnesses. It was the most awful night either of them had ever known. Neither of them got much sleep.

At one point, she thought she heard him whisper, "Astrid, where are you when I need you?"

___Who's Astrid?_ she thought.___She sounds like a complication. More complications are the very ____last____ thing I need right now._


	14. Chapter 14

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 14

Their sleepless night was ended early in the morning by a crash from directly overhead, accompanied by a loud roar.

Thora screamed in terror and looked for the closest door, then froze, unsure if running out unarmed to face the unknown threat was wiser than hiding indoors. The sleeping Viking witnesses stirred, stumbled around looking for their weapons, and sheepishly realized they hadn't brought any. Whatever-it-was roared and crashed on the roof again. Hiccup just yawned, stretched, and slid out of bed. He didn't have to get dressed because he'd spent the night fully clothed.

"Coming, Toothless," he mumbled. "Just because _my _life is over, that's no reason for today to be any different for _you_."

"What's Toothless?" Thora asked nervously.

"We were talking about my wings last night," Hiccup shrugged. "Come on out and meet him." He strode confidently out the door, grateful to finally be in a situation he knew how to handle. She followed fearfully.

Up on the roof was a huge, black, scary-looking reptile. She recognized it as the one whose picture hung on the wall inside, but she'd never seen anything like it in real life before. When it saw Hiccup, it stopped roaring, and let out some less-threatening growls and grunts, which he echoed back at it. Then it saw her, and its eyes narrowed.

"It's okay, Toothless," Hiccup called. "This is Thora, and she's... uhh... she's a friend, I think. Come on down and say hello." The dragon climbed down off the roof, keeping Hiccup between itself and her. It nuzzled him affectionately, crooning and rumbling, to her complete astonishment.

"What... _is _it?" she forced herself to ask.

"_He _is a Night Fury," Hiccup replied. That left her speechless for a few seconds.

"Well, what is it... I mean, what is he doing here?"

"He wants to go flying, just like he does every morning."

"Okay, but what does that have to do with you?" she wondered.

"Long story," he said, as he pulled an odd-looking assortment of rods and leatherwork out of a box beside the house. "I'll sum up: he's injured and he can't fly without me helping him, so we go flying together every morning, and sometimes at other times, too." He paused. "Want to go with us?"

"Flying?!" She clutched her throat. "I don't think so! I've never been off the ground in my life!"

He shrugged; he seemed disappointed. "I guess you'll get other chances. Well, one or two other chances. If I default on the marriage, you'll probably be leaving before the reception is over." He began fastening the equipment onto the dragon's tail, legs, and back.

"Is this what you meant last night, when you were talking about... flying away?" she asked nervously.

"I'm not packed for a long trip, so I can't take off like I'd really like to," he shrugged. "Still, I won't be here for breakfast, I'll probably avoid lunch, and don't be astonished if I don't show up for supper, either." He looked away as he tightened a buckle under the saddle. "I don't feel like facing the entire village, not after last night. I don't know if you'd understand that."

She was still trying to keep herself detached, but that last comment hurt. "Hiccup, I am _not _devoid of feelings!"

"Well, you certainly keep them under lock and key," he retorted, facing her squarely. "It's pretty obvious that I was a big disappointment to you, from the moment we met." His voice shifted to a falsetto. "Excuse me, barmaid! I'm afraid you brought me the wrong husband! I ordered an extra-large boy with beefy arms, extra guts and glory on the side! This here... this is a talking fishbone!"

A hundred angry rebuttals died unspoken on her lips, because he was right.

He resumed his normal voice. "I assure you, I like this arrangement even less than you do, but I'm all you've got, and you're all I've got. Either we figure out some way to make this thing work, or... or me and my people will see you and your people on the battlefield, and our weapons won't be padded like last time."

"Last time didn't go so well for you, if I recall," she half-smirked.

"I didn't have my Night Fury with me last time," he replied, and he wasn't smiling. "Speaking of whom, he's getting restless." He swung easily into the saddle, and latched his metal foot into the stirrup. "Don't worry, Thora – I'll be back in time for Round Two of my greatest failure ever."

"Aren't you going to get hungry, skipping all those meals?" she asked.

"Toothless is great at catching fish, and he's handy for starting campfires. I won't starve." The dragon shook its head impatiently.

"What am I supposed to tell people when they ask me where my husband went?" she demanded.

"Tell them I'm spending the day with my best friend," he answered. "Most of them will know what you mean." His mount growled and stomped on the ground with its forefoot. "Okay, Toothless, let's go!" The black dragon sprang into the air; the downdraft from its wings showered her with dirt and pine needles.

She watched them rising effortlessly into the sky until they disappeared into the clouds.

Now what? Her so-called husband had run away, so she couldn't spend the day with him, like newlyweds usually did. What should she do? It was breakfast time, there would be plenty of food in the Mead Hall, and it was still early enough that she wouldn't encounter too many people there. She took two steps... and stopped in her tracks as she really _thought _about what she'd just seen and heard.

Hiccup was riding a Night Fury.

Hiccup, the skinny, nervous boy? Hiccup, the hopeless loser on the battlefield? Hiccup, the failure in bed? Riding a _dragon? _A Night Fury, of all possible dragons? She, like most of her people, had never actually seen a Night Fury, only the matchless devastation they left behind. Now, she was confronted with the inescapable fact that her scrawny, incompetent excuse for a husband was _riding a Night Fury_.

That just didn't add up.

She needed some answers, and she went where she'd always gone for answers before – her father. She found him dressing for the day, and moved to pull him aside, but he pulled her aside first. He didn't look happy.

"I have been to at least forty weddings," he began, "and that had to be the most _pathetic _failure of a wedding-night performance I have _ever _seen."

She shook her head in agreement. "He doesn't give a girl much to hope for."

"Actually, I was talking about _you,_" he snapped.

"_Me?_" she burst out, astonished. "I didn't do anything!"

"Exactly!" he nodded, his eyes flashing. "You did _nothing!_ Don't you remember a conversation we had a few months ago? I said something like, 'It's not your job to watch your husband become a great chief, and complain to me if he fails. It's your job to _help _him become a great chief, and not _let _him fail.' Do you remember that discussion, Thora?" She nodded mutely.

"Or perhaps you remember the vows you wrote yourself, and spoke less than twenty-four hours ago? You said something like, 'My highest goals in life will be your glory, your success, and your happiness.' Do you remember promising that to your husband?" Again she nodded, reluctantly.

"Last night was a perfect chance for you to put those ideas into practice," he went on. "Your husband was in distress. You could have helped him. You could have encouraged him. But all you did was stare at him, like he was some kind of weed in your vegetable garden. You _sat _there and let him _fail,_ in front of the whole village!"

"Honestly, Father, what was I supposed to do about... _that?_"

"I'm sure the women at the ceremonial washing told you half a dozen things you could have done about _that,_" he retorted. "Apparently you weren't listening to _them,_ either. Should I arrange for another washing, so maybe you'll get the message this time?"

"That won't be necessary," she snapped, recalling the more graphic parts of what they'd told her.

"I hope not," Megadeth replied. He laid his hands on her shoulders; she'd never seen him so intense. "He's got two more chances to consummate this marriage. If he fails... we're at war." He gestured at the dragons roosting on a nearby building, then stared intently into her eyes. "Thora, _don't... let... your husband... fail!_" That was not a plea; it was an order. She nodded. The stakes in the game she was playing had just gone up.

Her father backed away a step. "By the way, where is he?"

"He went riding on a dragon. He said he'd be gone all day, but he'd be back tonight."

She expected him to be amazed at that revelation, but he just nodded. "Father, did you _hear _me? _He rides a dragon!_"

He nodded again. "Yes, I learned about that over the past three days. I learned a lot about him while you were out staring at trees." He rested a hand on her shoulder, but it was a much friendlier gesture. "Thora, this is probably the last time I'll ever give you a homework assignment. Seeing how you can't spend the day with your husband, I want you to stay out of the woods. Wander around the town; introduce yourself to some of your new fellow-citizens. Ask them what they think of Hiccup. Ask as many people as you can." He looked upward, as though expecting to see Hiccup and his dragon there. "I think they'll open your eyes in some surprising ways. Now, shall we go get some breakfast? You can eat with your mother and me, so you won't look awkward eating alone." She nodded gratefully.

She enjoyed the breakfast. Her people didn't eat eggs often because they didn't keep much poultry, so they were an unaccustomed treat. She went back for seconds. She was served by the same cook who had refilled the mead tankard yesterday.

"Welcome back, lucky lady," the woman said.

"Me? Lucky?" Thora had no idea what she was talking about.

"You married Hiccup!" she exclaimed, as though it were obvious. "There were a few unhappy girls in Berk when _that _got announced, believe me!" She leaned over and murmured, "Take good care of him! Please!" Thora returned to her table, confused.

When the meal was done, she did as her father asked. Everyone was willing to talk to her; they all knew who she was. Without exception, they described Hiccup in terms that totally clashed with the way she thought about him.

"He saved our entire village!"  
"He sure got off to a rocky start, but he's a hero now!"  
"I'll never forget watching him and that dragon in battle, fighting for all of us!"  
"Nobody ever killed a dragon like he did! That thing was _huge!_"

She wandered away from the center of town, trying to make sense of it all. There were only three possibilities. One, that the town had two boys named Hiccup, and she'd gotten the useless one instead of the heroic one. Two, that they were all lying about him, as part of a grand Berk conspiracy to make her think better of him than he deserved. Three, that she was totally and completely wrong about him.

She could have crossed number three off the list immediately, if it weren't for that black dragon.

She found herself on the edge of the circular stone ring where she'd overheard Hiccup's friends conspiring against him. Inside the ring were two dragons, a tan Gronckle and a red-and-brown Monstrous Nightmare, being tended by teen-age boys. She recognized the bigger dragon/rider pair as the ones who had flown out to greet their ship when they had first arrived at Berk. The rider was almost certainly one of the pranksters who had sabotaged her wedding, but he was also a boy who probably had some answers for her. She squared her shoulders and entered the ring.

"Hey, good morning, Mrs. Hiccup!" the boy called. "If you're looking for facts about Monstrous Nightmares, you've come to the right place."

"I really don't think that's the kind of thing that newlywed girls want to learn about," the big boy with the Gronckle cut in. His was the voice who had cautioned the others against playing their pranks; she'd have to remember that.

"Actually, I'm looking for all kinds of facts about my new home," she answered. "You said your name was... Snotsnout?"

"Snotlout, son of Spitelout," he said proudly, and gestured around him with his arm. "Welcome to our Dragon Training Academy!"

"Thank you," she nodded. "I've never seen a Dragon Training Academy before. Are you in charge of all this?"

His face fell, very slightly. "No, I'm in charge of the Monstrous Nightmares, but Hiccup is in charge of the Academy. It's all _his _doing."

"What's his doing?"

"The dragons. The Academy. All that stuff. He was the first to train and ride a dragon, and he taught the rest of us. We all helped form the Academy, though."

"Really? Okay, I've got another question. People keep telling me about a Red Death. What is that?"

For just half a moment, she saw fear in his eyes. When he spoke, it was slowly and with none of the bluster and bravado he'd been showing up until now. "A Red Death is a dragon. We hope it was one of a kind. I helped Hiccup kill it, by running around on its head and beating on its eyeballs with a hammer." He stared into her eyes, and she saw signs of a memory that he didn't care to recall. "_I ran around on its head!_ Do you understand what that _means?_"

"It means... it was big?" She was trying to form a mental picture.

"Do you see that rock out there?" He pointed to a stone spire rising straight out of the ocean several hundred feet away; a Deadly Nadder was flying loops around it. His voice was subdued. "If the Red Death's nose was in this ring, its tail would reach to that rock, maybe a little further. It destroyed our _entire fleet _with _one _fire shot! Listen, I give Hiccup a hard time, mostly because he deserves it, but I can't take anything away from what he did that day."

"And what did he do?"

"He killed it! Just him and his dragon. Yeah, I helped, and his other friends helped, but he's the one who did it, and he's the one who paid the price for it."

"What price was that?"

He looked at her in astonishment. "You can't tell me you haven't seen his leg!?"

Her confusion was rising by the moment. "He told us he lost it in a dockyard accident."

Snotlout shook his head. "That's Hiccup for you. He doesn't know how to brag. That's one reason he's so different from the rest of us."

"Indeed? What a shame. Snotlout, I have one other question, if you don't mind. Is there a girl in this town named... Astrid?"

"Yeah, that's her," he replied, jerking his thumb upward. The Deadly Nadder was swooping and spinning overhead, giving Thora a good view of the dragon's rider. The spiked skirt and the metal shoulder pads were impossible to miss.

"Thank you, Snotlout. I appreciate your help." She left the ring more confused than ever.

_That's the beautiful girl in the forest who ran away when she learned my name, _she thought. _That's the girl who Hiccup called out to in the night. I'm not great at math, but anyone can put two and two together and figure that one out!_

Astrid was Hiccup's girl friend. They meant a lot to each other. Perhaps they'd gotten closer than they should have. He'd had to drop her when he'd gotten engaged, but he still had feelings for her. Now Thora understood what the other boy had meant when he'd said "he's not happy about this whole thing anyway." Not happy? They'd broken his heart! And they'd used a tool named Thora to do it! Maybe that was why he couldn't perform as a husband for her. She actually began to feel some compassion for him.

Then she had another thought. This Astrid was pretty and had all the Viking virtues. She could have had her choice of boy friends; she'd chosen Hiccup. _Why_ would she choose _him?_ Either Astrid was blind, or Thora was, and Astrid had probably known him all her life. She must have seen something in him that Thora hadn't seen.

She kept wandering around the town. She didn't meet anyone who had anything unkind to say about her husband, and it went well beyond just saying nice things to the bride. They really liked him.

Every word, every little comment, was chipping away at her preconceived notions of who her husband was. She fought the process in her mind, trying all kinds of insane rationalizations to avoid believing what she was hearing. It wasn't working. Sooner or later, she was going to have to face the fact that she had made the mother of all misjudgments about him, with consequences that could affect her and everyone she knew.

A harsh metallic banging from a nearby forge kept her from thinking straight. With nothing better to do, she wandered over to watch the smith at work for a few minutes. He was missing several limbs, but that wasn't stopping him from some good workmanship on what looked like a ship's anchor. He glanced up when he realized he was being watched.

"Well, well, here comes th' bride!" he chuckled. "What brings ye to my forge on a fine first-day-of-yer-marriage?"

"Oh, I just wanted to thank you for that excellent sword you made for our wedding," she replied.

He scowled slightly. "Tisk, tisk, my lady, I'm flattered, but I dinna make that one. That's yer husband's doin'."

After all the surprising things she'd learned about her husband that day, she thought she'd heard everything, but _that _revelation made her jaw drop. "_Hiccup_ made that?!"

"Aye, he's my apprentice," the smith nodded, "but I 'ave to admit, his apprenticeship is just about over. There isn't much more I can teach 'im."

"But... but his arms... they're so..."

"Aye, it takes 'im about four times as long to make a sword as it takes me," he said, "and when he's done, it's no better for usin' against Berserkers or the occasional rogue dragon than mine would be. But that artsy stuff he does... that's all his own 'andiwork. I never even _think _o' stuff like that, an' if I did, I doubt I could do better."

"That's... really amazing," she finally said.

"He's good enough with his tools, but it's that thinkin' stuff that 'e's the best at," the old smith went on. "I don't know where he gets his ideas, but he sure gets a lot of 'em. If he ever stops thinkin' of new things, ye better check to see if he's still breathin'."

"I'll 'ave to remember that," she replied, unconsciously imitating his accent for a moment. "I didn't know that about him."

"Ye don't know yer new 'usband very well, do ye?" he asked, with a bit of a twinkle in his eye. When she shook her head, he put down his work. "Let me show ye somethin'." He led her through the back of the forge and gestured for her to enter a small, dimly-lit room.

"This is his workshop," the smith said. "I don't go 'ere very often. It's usually cluttered with his crazy inventions, and I don't understand half o' what I see. But look at 'is pictures. They'll tell ye a few things about th' lad that I canna put into words." He returned to his hammering.

The walls and the work desk were covered with pencil drawings. "His pictures," the smith had said. Hiccup drew all these? He was _good_. She realized that he'd also drawn the picture of the dragon on the wall in his house. _Our _house, she forcibly corrected herself.

There were many pictures of that dragon, showing its face with many different emotions. There were drawings of machines and contraptions whose purpose was a mystery to her. There were pictures of his friends, his father, various people from the town... and Astrid. Lots of pictures of Astrid.

There were landscapes, and seascapes, and drawings of the village. There were rough sketches and finished drawings and everything in between. The only thing she didn't see was a self-portrait.

She left the forge, shaking her head. She found a quiet place between two tradesmen's shops and sat down on the ground. She had to _think_.

Her husband was a thin, weak boy who forged swords like a master smith.  
Her husband was a quiet, fragile-looking youth who was the first Viking to ever train and ride a dragon.  
Her husband was a perpetual casualty on the mock-battlefield who had fought and killed the largest dragon in existence.  
Her husband was a failure in the bedroom who had won the heart of the prettiest girl in town.  
Her husband was weak-willed and spineless, and he had given up the girl he loved, for the sake of duty.

At last, she threw up her hands in frustration and exclaimed, **"Everything I **_**know**_** about this guy... is **_**wrong!**_**"**

"Is there something I can help with, dear?" someone nearby said. It was the kindly-looking woman who had given the sensible advice at the ceremonial washing. Thora would rather have confided in her mother, but her mother was at the Mead Hall, enjoying the rare chance to celebrate like the men.

"I guess I'm confused about a lot of things," she admitted.

"Do any of those things have anything to do with marriage?" the woman asked. Thora nodded. "We can talk privately in my house, if you'd like. You look like someone who needs to talk." They walked together to a small, slightly run-down-looking house in the center of town, and sat down together at the table.

"So... what's on your mind?" the woman asked. "I notice your new husband isn't around, which is kind of unusual. My husband told me something unpleasant about last night. Are those two things related?"

"I suppose so," Thora agreed. "He doesn't want to face the village."

"I'm not astonished," the woman said. "With us ladies, it's all about who we are and who we know. With men, it's all about what they do. They take failure hard, especially that kind of failure."

"I don't know much about that kind of stuff."

"None of us were born knowing that kind of stuff," the woman smiled. "It comes with experience, and being willing to learn about people who are very different from you, by which I mean 'men.' In four or five years, _you'll_ be the one giving the advice at the ceremonial washings."

Thora took a deep breath. "What I was wondering was... is it okay to act really loving toward someone on the outside, if you don't feel that way inside?"

The woman smiled and nodded. "We Viking women do it all the time. Sometimes it's the only way to keep the peace, and sometimes it's the beginning of something better. Love can start that way – the actions come first and the emotions follow. There isn't a one of us who loved our husbands when we married them, but we have a pretty good track record of happiness over the long haul. The tricky part is getting him to lower his strong, masculine front so he can admit that loving you back is a good thing. You've actually got an easier road than most of us – Hiccup doesn't _have _a strong, masculine front, so you're already halfway there."

A moment later, the door burst open, and Astrid stuck her head inside. "Mama, is it okay if I –" She saw Thora and stopped. Her eyes went wide. She stared in utter horror for a few seconds, then turned and ran. The door slowly creaked shut on its own.

"Astrid is your daughter?" _Okay, if this isn't the most awkward scene ever, then I'm a Hideous Zippleback. No, that's a bad analogy – she did just look at me like I've got two heads_.

"You've met her?"

"Briefly," Thora nodded reluctantly. "I've figured out... what was happening between her and Hiccup."

The woman sighed. "That's the saddest part of this whole thing. We all thought those two would marry, until reality got in their way."

"You must hate me," Thora said, staring at the table. "The whole town must hate me."

The woman laid a hand on her shoulder. "We don't blame you, dear. We know you had nothing to do with it. It was just tribal politics, business as usual. The men make a mess, then they cobble together a solution, and we women pay the price for it. It's always been that way. Don't worry about it."

"It's hard _not _to worry about it," Thora replied. "I'm a stranger from an unpopular tribe, I took away your number-one bachelor, I broke up a loving couple..."

"_You _didn't do _any _of those things," the woman replied, a bit heatedly. "The only thing that would make us hate you is if you don't treat Hiccup well. He isn't the greatest at looking out for himself, so some of us try to look out for him. He's very popular, in case you hadn't noticed. If you make him happy, this town will be your friend."

A man stuck his head in the door. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but... Edda, could you please talk to your daughter? I've tried, but she keeps telling me I don't understand. She's out behind the shed."

"Coming, Gunnarr," she said. "Thora... just be nice to that boy. I'm sure the rest will fall into place; he's a very good, kind-hearted young man. Please drop by any time you need to talk."

Thora nodded as she left. Somehow she'd made a friend, albeit an extremely unlikely one. She'd also gotten some of the answers she needed. Admitting that she'd been absolutely wrong about Hiccup was hard, but at least she knew how to start making things better.

___He'll be coming back tonight,_ she thought,___and he'll expect me to be as rotten to him as I was last night__._

___He'll never know what hit him._


	15. Chapter 15

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 15

It was a beautiful day for a long, long dragon ride. Toothless loved every moment of it; their rides usually had to be cut short because Hiccup had to get to the forge or run an Academy meeting. They flew crazy dives and climbs, they glided straight and level, they did whatever they felt like doing, and there was no one around to tell them when to stop.

When they got hungry, they searched the seas for schools of fish, and swooped down when they saw one. A single firebolt stunned half the school, and when they floated to the surface, Toothless scooped up a couple of big ones. They landed on the nearest island, Hiccup built a fire out of the deadwood and brush he found, the dragon lit it, and the boy cooked his fish while the dragon swallowed his meal whole and raw. When they were done, Hiccup put out the fire and they went flying some more.

It was probably the most relaxing day Hiccup had known in the past five months.

It wasn't perfectly relaxing, though. Every now and then, he couldn't help thinking about Thora, and last night, and the night to come. There would be the witnesses staring at him and shouting at him, there would be his father desperately hoping that this wouldn't be another typical Hiccup performance, there would be his new wife glaring at him and almost daring him to touch her, and there would be the near-certainty that tonight would end just like last night. One more failure after that, and the town would surely forget everything he'd done for them in the past. Instead of Hiccup the Useless, he'd be known as Hiccup the Impotent, and his life would be over, just like his tribe's peace treaty would be over.

"At that point, you and I probably _should _just fly away," he said to his friend, who replied with a dragony grin. "You don't understand what's at stake here, do you, bud? Sometimes I envy you." Still, it could be worse. The two of them could keep each other alive and well-fed indefinitely without anyone else's help; today's adventure made that obvious. Maybe flying away wouldn't be so bad.

As the sun touched the sea, they turned for home. They flew straight, with a few random zigzags that Toothless threw in for the fun of it, and landed as it was getting dark. He could see the light of candles and lanterns around the edges of the door; everyone he was dreading to see was probably waiting inside for him. He removed the dragon's riding rig, stowed it in the storage box he'd built into the house for that purpose, took a deep breath, and stepped inside.

The twelve witnesses were spread out along the walls, very much as they had been last night, although some of them were showing the effects of two days of partying. The candles and the lanterns were lit, just like they were last night. Thora was sitting on the bed... and she didn't act a _bit _like she did last night.

She smiled when she saw him, rose gracefully, picked up the two-handled tankard of mead off the night stand, and offered it to him wordlessly. He accepted it and drank from it; he couldn't take his eyes off of her and her smile, which he'd never seen before. It transformed her entire face. She took the tankard when he was done, sipped from it, and returned it to the night stand. Then she took his hand (why was his hand so sweaty, all of a sudden?) and led him to the bed. They sat down together.

That was when his nerves started jangling again. He was still surrounded by men who were staring at him, hoping he'd either put on a show or fail spectacularly. The girl sitting next to him still wasn't Astrid. The pressure to perform, and the consequences of failure, were weighing on him just as heavily as last night. He began to sweat. He felt that awful feeling in the pit of his stomach that always accompanied one of his disasters, even though this disaster hadn't quite happened yet. He tried to find something neutral and impersonal to look at.

She rested a fingertip on his chin and turned his face toward her. "Hiccup, I have to start with an apology. For last night."

She was talking to him! That was a huge change, in and of itself. But what was she saying?

"Uhh, you didn't _do _anything last night."

"I know," she nodded, "and that's what I'm apologizing for. I could have done something to help you, but I didn't. I'm sorry. I want to treat you better than that. Will you forgive me?"

Had he gone through some kind of time warp while he was flying today, and come home to an alternate universe where everyone was different? Could this be the same girl who had passively resisted him last night? She looked the same, except for her smile, but she wasn't acting the same at all.

"Okay, I forgive you, but... if you don't mind my asking, how come everything is different, all of a sudden?"

"Let's just say I've learned a few things today that have opened my eyes," she said.

"Would you two get _on _with it?" one of the Meatheads shouted. "We aren't here to watch you talk!"

Hiccup had bottled up all the stress and pain he'd been feeling over the past five months, to say nothing of yesterday and last night. Now, something in him snapped. "You think we're going too slow?" he demanded.

"You're darned right," the Meathead shot back.

"Well, if you want to see a faster show, then go home to your own wife, and you can go as fast as you want!" Hiccup exclaimed. "This is _my _wedding night, we're going to do it _my _way, and if _you _don't like it, nobody is making you stay in _my _house!"

"Do you _always _talk back to your elders like that, boy?" Mogadon demanded.

"No, sir, only when they're messing up my wedding night."

Thora tried to keep her expression neutral, but her eyes went wide with amazement. _Maybe there's a man in there, after all! _As he turned back to face her, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him. She knew how to do that much, at least – she'd played a few games of Spin-the-Spearhead with her friends back home.

He was so startled, he began to push her away, until his lips told him he was being an idiot.

Everything about her, from her arms to her waist to her lips against his, was soft and warm and inviting, not firm and potentially dangerous like he was accustomed to. That was the closest he came to thinking of Astrid that night; Thora kept him completely fixated on herself from that moment on. He responded hesitantly to her at first, then eagerly, and she seemed to like that. Some of the witnesses cheered and whistled when he let her go.

"That's much better," she whispered.

"Yeah," he agreed, stupefied. She pulled him close and kissed him again. One thing led naturally to another. After about half an hour, the witnesses nodded at each other and headed for the door. They'd seen what they needed to see.

"That boy of yours is full of surprises," Mogadon said jovially to Stoick, clapping him on the shoulder.

"At least tonight was a good surprise," Stoick nodded. "Now our treaty and our two tribes are safe."

"Don't forget, the bride an' the groom are happy," Gobber added. "That's part o' the deal, too, right?"

Back in the house, the bride and the groom were clinging tightly to each other. It was a warm, cozy way to avoid making eye contact – they weren't quite ready for that, after what they'd just done. Hiccup remembered how the Meatheads had advised him to roll over and go to sleep, but he'd concluded that the Meatheads were no friends of his, and he might be better off if he did the opposite of whatever they suggested. Yes, he felt exhausted, but sleep couldn't possibly be more pleasant than this!

He still barely knew this girl in his arms whom he'd just been so intimate with; part of him wondered whether last night's Thora or tonight's Thora was the real one; but she didn't feel like a total stranger any more. It might be awkward when they had to get up in the morning and get dressed, but for now, for the first time in months, he felt something like peace.

"I don't know what changed, but I'm glad," he said quietly.

"Are you thinking nice thoughts about me?" she whispered, her lips right against his ear. He quivered.

"Wonderful thoughts," he replied.

"Good," she sighed, and closed her eyes. It had been unpleasant in places, actually painful here and there, but he wasn't the out-of-control monster that the women at the washing had warned her about. Compared to last night, he was a totally different boy.

_"__I don't know what changed," he said. What ____did____ change? Nothing, except I encouraged him a little._

___If he changed that much with just a little encouragement... what kind of a man could he be if I encouraged him a ____lot____?_


	16. Chapter 16

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 16

As he'd suspected, the next morning was awkward for both of them. On the one hand, they'd been as close as two people can be, just a few hours ago. On the other hand, they'd known each other for only two days, and they had been together and free to interact for less than half of that time.

They woke up early; neither of them was used to sharing a bed with someone. They both pulled the covers up to their chins and just looked at each other for a few seconds, trying to figure out what to say to each other. Hiccup finally gambled on "Good morning."

"Good morning," she answered, with a nervous smile.

"Uhh... what happens next?" he asked.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I never did this before."

"Me, neither," he said, mentally cursing himself for sounding so lame. "The men at my ceremonial washing had lots of suggestions for last night, but nothing for this morning."

"If the women at _my _washing were right, you're probably going to want some more of that last-night stuff," she replied. She wasn't keen on the thought, but it might be best in the long run.

He felt a quick shiver, even though he wasn't cold. "I admit I like that idea," he said, hesitantly stroking her cheek with one finger, "but the women at your washing didn't know about the –"

CRASH! _RO-O-OAR!_

"...Night Fury," he finished, and looked up at the ceiling. "Toothless, sometimes you have the _worst _timing!"

"Is it going to do this to us every morning?" she asked nervously as another crash rattled the house.

"If he doesn't, I'll have to see if he's sick," Hiccup answered. "He lives to fly, he needs me to do it, and he doesn't understand words like 'later.' I'm afraid you have to add him to the list of things you're going to have to adjust to." He began to get out of bed, and stopped.

"What's the matter?" she wondered.

"I haven't got much on," he said, embarrassed.

"Actually, you've got nothing on," she replied, with a hint of a giggle. "I'm pretty sure about that." He felt himself getting red. Toothless roared again; he was getting impatient up there.

"Could you... uhh... you know..."

"Close my eyes?" She seemed amused. "I thought men liked it when women stared at them."

"Maybe some guys do, but me..." He shrugged. "I'm not worth staring at."

"Maybe you should let _me _make that decision," she said softly, and pulled him back for another of those kisses that he was swiftly becoming addicted to. She loved how she could get such a powerful response out of him with so little effort. He slid back under the covers.

"You're going to be late for your dragon ride," she smiled.

"Yeah. Late," he said, suddenly fixated on an idea that had nothing whatsoever to do with dragons or flying. He reached for her, she welcomed him, and...

(_Sorry – we only have a T rating on this story. There's nothing to see here, folks. Move along, move along._)

Somewhere during the proceedings, the roaring and crashing stopped. Hiccup must have been _very _distracted, because he didn't notice. But just after they finished, he felt a puff of warm air on his back. She opened her eyes and stifled a scream. He looked over his shoulder, and discovered that they had been watched.

"Toothless, do you _mind?_" he exclaimed.

"How did he get in here?" she demanded, cowering against the headboard.

"I guess the witnesses didn't latch the door when they left last night," he offered. The dragon was puzzled; he wanted to know what they were doing, and how it could _possibly _be more interesting to Hiccup than flying.

"Get him out of here!" she begged. "I don't want any more witnesses, even if they aren't human!"

Hiccup found his clothes on the floor and wriggled into them quickly. "He's just curious. He'll leave when I leave, won't you, bud?" He patted the black nose; the dragon butted at his hand with a gesture that clearly meant, "You're going too slow."

She glared at the dragon, then at him. "Is this how it's going to be? I give you the best I have, and then you run off with a dragon the first chance you get? Love me and leave me?"

"Thora... we all have a lot of adjustments we'll have to make," he began. Toothless butted him again; he tried to ignore him. "Toothless isn't just a pet or a mount. He's a friend, but he thinks differently than we do. He doesn't understand what's going on between us. I think he knows you've made me very happy, but he also knows you've made me late for our ride, and he's confused. Please give him... give _us_... a little time to work this out."

"Am I number one in your life, or aren't I?" she asked.

"You're supposed to be," Hiccup answered without hesitation, "but he doesn't know that yet. Come on, bud, let's go flying. Thora, are you sure you don't want to come with us?"

"I'm sure," she said firmly, and watched the two of them leave. Once they were gone, she got dressed and began exploring her house. Like most longhouses, it wasn't broken into rooms, but partial walls separated it into sleeping areas, dining and living space, and cooking and storage areas. There were two fire pits, one set up for cooking, the other meant just for warmth. The furniture was mostly unfinished pine, not fancy, but well-made. The house itself was obviously sturdy, seeing how it had stood up to a dragon dancing on the roof, but it needed some color. She began thinking about some changes she'd like to make. She'd been assured that men didn't care about things like that, so she didn't worry about asking Hiccup's opinion.

Suddenly, something he'd said earlier hit her between the eyes. "I think he knows you've made me very happy." There was no question he enjoyed that aspect of their newborn relationship – all men did, she'd been told – but it was remarkable that he was willing to come out and say it already. Men weren't supposed to be that up-front with their feelings, were they?

"Hiccup doesn't _have _a strong, masculine front, so you're already halfway there." That's what Edda had said. Perhaps he wasn't the manliest man she'd ever met... but was that somehow working to her advantage?

_Marriage is complicated,_ she thought. _Or maybe it's Hiccup who is complicated_.

When Hiccup and Toothless returned to the house, she was waiting for him outside, along with some of the witnesses from last night. He tensed up when he saw them. Maybe he thought he'd done something wrong last night, and now they had to do it again while the others leered at him some more?

"Hiccup, what's taking you so long?" his father demanded. "You were supposed to be in the Mead Hall with your wife, so we could give her the morning-gift and finalize the contract!"

"Toothless doesn't understand about morning-gifts, Dad, only about his morning ride," Hiccup tried to explain.

"We allowed time for that, and ye're still way behind schedule," Gobber answered.

Thora didn't think it was right for them to be treating him like he'd done something wrong. She braced herself and stepped forward. "The truth is... I made him late for his ride."

Stoick laughed out loud at that, clapping his son on the shoulder and sending him flying as he bellowed, "Ha-ha-hahh, _that's_ my _boy!_" The other men smirked and nodded at each other. She felt her face getting warm, and noticed with some relief that Hiccup also had the good grace to blush. He took his place beside her and said, "We're ready now."

As the impromptu procession made its way uphill toward the Mead Hall, she reached over and took his hand. That seemed to startle him, but he adjusted quickly. _Maybe it's not so bad that we're the same height,_ she decided. _That makes it easy for us to walk together_.

The inside of the Mead Hall was just as disorderly as any party scene from the Hall in her home town, except there was no evidence of fighting. The number of Vikings passed out drunk on the floor was about the same, and the noise level might have been slightly higher here. Hiccup led her to the head table, which had apparently been unused since they left it a day and a half ago; he helped her sit, then stood beside her.

"Viking men and women!" Stoick bellowed, bringing quiet to the party. "It's time to bring the actual wedding to a conclusion! Would the parents of the bride please step forward?"

Her father and mother left a mixed group of Berks and Meatheads and stood next to the head table. Stoick brought out three small chests and set them on the table in front of her. "As the final terms of your marriage contract, I present your morning-gift," he announced formally. "Please open it, so your parents can confirm that we have fulfilled all the terms." The room went quiet; all eyes were on her.

She opened the leftmost chest. Everyone in the room strained to see what she'd gotten. No one had told her the terms, although they were probably generous, seeing how a village chief was involved.

This first chest was filled from bottom to top with silver coins of various kinds. They were wildly assorted, which meant they were either pirate loot or, more likely, acquired from Vikings who had sailed and traded all over the known world. There were a _lot _of them; she could probably live comfortably for at least a year on that kind of money. Her father reached over and worked his finger down to the bottom of the chest, to make sure she wasn't being cheated by a half-full chest with a false bottom. "This is acceptable," he said formally, and nodded to her.

She opened the second chest, and gasped. The crowd ooh'ed and ahh'ed appreciatively. This chest was full of gold coins, which were smaller than the silver ones individually, but their value... she was speechless. She had just become as wealthy as a chief! Judging by Mogadon's expression, she might even be wealthier than some chiefs. Again, her father confirmed that the chest was as full as it appeared to be, and pronounced it acceptable.

The third chest felt empty when she pulled it over to her. Inside, there was only a piece of paper. It appeared to be a small map of some kind. She held it up, puzzled.

"That is your title to an acre of land on Berk," Stoick explained. "You can choose whether you want your acre on the sunrise side of the island, or the sunset side, or completely inland. You can do whatever you want with that land – harvest the trees, grow crops, build another house, leave it wild... it's your land."

She was a landowner.

Among the Meatheads, women were _never _landowners.

She blinked hard. Her father leaned over, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "That third chest was supposed to be filled with copper," he said quietly, "but I saw how much you loved the forest here, and I spoke to Stoick about altering the deal. He agreed, this would mean more to you." He stood straight and announced, "This is acceptable!"

Stoick beamed. "That means the marriage contract is fulfilled. Hiccup son of Stoick, and Thora daughter of Megadeth, are legally married!" Everyone cheered and drank a toast in the newlyweds' honor, guzzling whatever beverage they had in their hands at the time.

Thora just stared at the three chests. Her father was accepting handshakes from the other men, and gradually wandered away to other parts of the Hall. Her mother bent over to check out the chests' contents, and to congratulate her, but soon joined the other women. She was in a room full of people who were gathered to see her, and she was alone.

No, she wasn't. Hiccup was still standing there beside her.

"Aren't you going to socialize with your friends?" she asked.

"That doesn't seem like the right way to treat my new wife," he replied with a slight shake of the head. "Besides, I'm curious about your gift. I've never seen that much money in one place before."

Thora didn't know what to make of that. "But... it's your father's money!"

"He never waves it around for people to see," Hiccup replied. "I had no idea he was that well-off. I figured he'd give you a flock of sheep or something."

"I'm glad he didn't," she said firmly. "The money is nice, but... an acre of forest of my very own! I'm just... I don't know what to say!"

He shrugged. "I'd say we should eat some breakfast while we're here. Then maybe we could take a walk in the woods, and you can decide which part will be yours."

She looked up at him, slightly surprised. "I like that idea. We'll do that."


	17. Chapter 17

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 17

"_For love and understanding, to find a quiet place,  
"For silent understanding, a loving touch.  
"Come to me when things go wrong  
"And there's no love to light the way.  
"Let me be the one you run to.  
"Let me be the one you come to, when you need someone to turn to."  
(from "Let Me Be the One" by the Carpenters)_

They walked in the woods together, yet not quite together. Hiccup was beginning to feel stirrings of attraction toward this girl he'd just married, yet she was mostly a stranger to him, and his heart was nowhere near ready to give up Astrid's claims on him. Thora was still overwhelmed with the contradictions between what her new husband appeared to be, and who he actually was, and was struggling to come to terms with it all.

They walked close enough to hold hands, but did not do so. They had tried it at first, but she kept stopping to look around, or up at the trees that surrounded her, and he kept getting jerked to a halt. Eventually, he turned her loose, and kept pace beside her.

"This is just so amazing to me," she finally said.

"It's hard for me to imagine a whole island with no forest on it," he replied.

They could hear the rattling of a woodpecker searching for a meal inside a tree trunk. The calls of warblers and sparrows, and the occasional scream of a kestrel, kept the forest from being completely silent and mysterious. The trees were mostly pines and other conifers, with a few moss-covered old-growth hardwoods rising above the canopy. The ground was completely covered in brown pine needles and dead leaves, with a few brave little seedlings poking through the cover.

Thora stopped again, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath of the clean forest air. She let herself smile slightly. This wasn't the life she thought she'd be living at this time last year, but her new life might have some advantages.

"You really like it here," he observed.

For a moment, she was almost annoyed that he'd broken the peaceful mood by talking. Well, if he wanted to talk...

"Hiccup, now that we're completely alone, there's something I need to say to you."

"Okay," he nodded, and braced himself. Whatever it was, he had a feeling he wouldn't like it.

"On our first night, when you were trying to fall asleep, you called out to someone named Astrid."

_Oh, gods, here it comes,_ he thought.

"I did a little asking around," she went on, "and... I learned about you and her. I want you to know I feel bad about you and her having to break up. Believe me when I tell you, I had nothing to do with it."

He nodded slowly. Just the mention of Astrid's name had stirred up all the turmoil in his heart all over again. "I know you had nothing to do with it. It was the chiefs and the treaty and all that stuff."

"Still," she said, "I don't want to hear her name on your lips again, except in ordinary conversation. I'm your wife now. I have the right to ask that of you."

Again he nodded. "You do have that right."

"Will you promise me that?"

He had been staring at the ground; now he looked intently in her eyes. "Thora, ever since I found out that girls are different from boys, she was the only girl who had any appeal to me at all. I almost lost her when I beat her in Dragon Training, but Toothless helped me impress her and win her back. We figured we'd be married in a couple of years." He looked away. "And then that stupid treaty happened, and your people didn't have anyone for my dad to marry, and here we are. Bang! It happened so fast..." He looked back at her. "I vowed to be faithful to you, and I will be. I promise you I'll try to do what you've asked. You have that right; no girl should have to face any competition once the wedding rings are on. But I'm afraid it won't happen fast."

"If you slip up, I'll remind you," she said, almost gently, and reached to pat him on the shoulder. He cringed and pulled away. What was _that _about?

"Hiccup, are you afraid of me for some reason?"

"No," he said; she couldn't read his face. "I just thought you were about to whack me in the arm or something."

Thora was indignant. "Why would I ever do a thing like that?"

He shrugged. "That's... kind of what I'm used to."

She thought about that for a few seconds, put two and two together, and was honestly shocked at the answer. "_She hit_ _you?!_"

He pulled away, startled at the intensity of her reaction. "Not that much, and it wasn't that bad. She said it was communication. Sometimes I deserved it."

Thora stepped around so she was in front of him again. "Hiccup, _nobody _deserves to be hit by someone they care about, not _ever_. I don't care what you did or what she thought about it – a woman hitting a man is just as bad as a man hitting a woman." Her voice dropped as she took a half-step toward him. "I didn't say this in my vows, because I thought it went without saying, but I will never, ever, _ever _hit you, no matter what you do. My touch should be something you look forward to, not something you fear. Please believe me – this is important to me. I don't _ever _want you to be afraid of me."

He seemed mystified by her reaction. "It's not that big a deal, really."

"Hiccup, I'm your wife! I'm supposed to be your safe place. Do you know what that means?"

His green eyes bored into hers for a moment; then he looked away. "No," he said, very softly. "I don't know what that means."

"There's _never _been someone you could go to, who would never turn on you or hurt you?"

He turned his back on her and stared at the ground again. "Not since my mother died," he whispered.

She had been raising a hand to reach out to him; when she heard that, her hand dropped limply back to her side. There were moments during the ceremony when she'd wondered where her mother-in-law was, but no one had said anything, and she'd had so many other things on her mind...

Again she stepped in front of him. She gently lifted his chin with a fingertip. "Hiccup, please, tell me about your life."

"That's a long story, even though I haven't been alive that long," he sighed.

"We've got all day," she urged him. "I want to know. I _need _to know."

They sat down on a fallen tree and, without preamble, he told her everything. He told her how he'd been tiny and weak from the day he was born; how his father had always been disappointed in him; how he'd turned to his mother for strength and comfort until the day she died; how he'd pretty much been on his own ever since. He told her about the abuse and the bullying and the neglect he'd endured from his peers; about how Gobber was almost a substitute father for him; about how he'd done everything in his power to please his father and impress Astrid, and failed at everything. He told her how his relationship with Toothless had changed his life; he quickly described the day in the Mead Hall when his father had disowned him and kicked him out of the tribe, and how he'd regained everyone's favor by killing the Red Death, and the price he'd paid for that. He talked about how he and Astrid had grown closer, and how her mother and father had become a second set of parents to him, and how he'd reacted when his father told him about his engagement.

"And that brings us up to today, I guess," he sighed.

Thora was trying not to cry.

"How can you still be alive after all that?" she finally blurted out, and one tear did run down her cheek.

He quickly wiped it away with a finger. "Don't cry, please!" he begged. "I'm okay. Really."

She reached for him, and he didn't flinch. She didn't kiss him, though. She wrapped both arms around him and held him. "You're long overdue for a safe place," she whispered, and cradled his head against her shoulder.

For nearly an hour, they sat that way with her arms around him, and he began letting out a short lifetime's worth of pain and loneliness. He would just hold her for a while; then he'd bury his face in her shoulder and cry uncontrollably for a few minutes; then, without warning, he would kiss her so passionately, she thought he meant to take her, right there in the woods; then he just resumed clinging to her, trembling as though he were dying of cold.

_That's a lot of bottled-up emotions he's letting out, all at once, _she thought._ I'm amazed that he trusts me this much so quickly. He needs this_.

At last, he returned to an even keel. He let her go, looking slightly embarrassed, but he didn't pull away from her. "Safe place," he whispered. "I think I like it."

She rested one hand on his shoulder. "Hiccup, _that _was communication. _That _was how a woman ought to touch her man. No fists, no pain, and no fear. I want you to get used to that, because that's what the rest of your life is going to be like. Don't just forget about Astrid; forget everything she taught you as well. I want to teach you some new lessons, and I think you'll like them a lot better."

He nodded and patted her hand, and he almost smiled. "I could definitely get used to it."

After a few silent moments, his stomach growled and ruined the moment. "Maybe it's time for lunch?" he wondered.

"Maybe," she nodded. They rose and walked back toward the village, hand in hand.

_**o**_

___A/N To all my wonderful readers: this story is almost up to 17,000 reads already, and we've still got a long way to go. I am stunned. I never thought that a story about Hiccup and an OC would get past a couple of hundred reads. I humbly thank you all._


	18. Chapter 18

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 18

After lunch, Thora made a decision. It would be hard for her, but she had to know.

"Hiccup, can you do something for me?"

"Sure. What would you like?"

"Everyone keeps talking about that big dragon you killed, the Red Death – is that right?" He nodded. "Is there any way I can see it?"

"Yes, you can see what's left of it, but the best way to get there is on a dragon. I thought you were afraid of flying on dragons."

"Honestly, I am... a little. But I have to see this thing with my own eyes, and it looks like flying is the only way to get there."

"We could take a ship," he suggested, "but it would take days to get there and days more to return. I'll tell my dad we'll be gone for the rest of the day, we'll saddle up Toothless, and I'll take you for a ride."

She tried to help him saddle up Toothless. It didn't go well. The dragon didn't seem to trust her; it flinched away every time she came near it, growling and baring its teeth at her. (Toothless? _Hah!_) Finally, she pulled Hiccup aside and asked, "What am I doing wrong?"

"Nothing that I can see," he answered, "but he can be that way around strangers. He'll probably get used to you in a few more days. For now, tell him you're sorry."

"What am I sorry for?" she wondered. "I haven't done anything to him."

"Saying 'I'm sorry' has some kind of special meaning to him," Hiccup explained. "It seems to mean 'I'm ready to be nice.' It worked with Astrid, and I'm told it worked with my father. Try it and see what happens."

She nervously stepped in front of the dragon; it glared at her through slitted pupils. "Toothless, I'm sorry," she said. "I'd like to be your friend."

The Night Fury's eyes slowly widened. It looked back at Hiccup, who said, "She's okay, bud." Then it looked back at her, now with curiosity instead of resentment. It let her help Hiccup with the rest of the rigging process without growling or any other complaints.

"Okay, Toothless, you're ready," Hiccup finally said. "We're going for a nice long ride – you'll like that." He jumped into the saddle and locked his metal foot into the pedal. "Thora, climb up behind me, and hold on _tight_. Toothless knows only two ways to take off – fast, and faster."

She joined him on the leather saddle, still not at all sure she was going to like this. She wrapped her arms around her husband and said, "I'm ready." A half-moment later, they were off the ground and going up _very _fast.

"Thora," Hiccup gasped, "can you... ease up a little? My ribs... can't take this." She nodded, but she couldn't make herself relax her death grip on him until Toothless leveled off.

Hiccup took a few deep breaths to make sure nothing was broken, then looked back at Thora. "What do you think of the view?"

"I don't know," she answered. "I haven't opened my eyes."

"I can't make you," he chuckled, "but if you can make yourself open them, you won't be sorry."

"What if I can't?"

"It's an hour-long trip each way. That's a long time to keep yourself blind. I know not everyone is cut out for dragon flight, but you really ought to try."

"Hiccup, I'm really not sure I can do this."

"All I can say is, flying with Toothless is a part of my life that isn't going to go away. I'd love to share it with you, and I'd hate to cut you out of it – that's an hour or more every day that we can't share." He paused. "Can you try and do it for _me?_"

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes a crack.

They were about half a mile up, out over the open sea. She looked back; Berk was dim and receding fast. Below her, there wasn't much to see except waves and one lonely-looking longship, her oarsmen bucking the wind. Above her was the ever-present cloud layer. There wasn't much to see up here.

"Am I missing something?" she asked.

"It's more interesting when we're over land," he answered, "but that doesn't mean there's nothing at all to see out here. Take us a little higher, Toothless. I think you know what I have in mind."

She clutched him again, afraid of another steep climb. Instead, they rose gradually; Toothless held himself level and gained altitude through simple wing power. The clouds overhead grew closer. She relaxed, very slightly, which Hiccup appreciated. Then she tensed up again.

"Hiccup, we're going to hit those clouds!"

"Toothless, level off for a minute, bud." Hiccup turned to face her. "Do you really think I'm going to do something that might hurt you?" She shook her head after a moment. "You have no idea what this morning meant to me, Thora. I felt so totally relaxed and at peace... You've proven that you want what's best for me. I can trust you not to hurt me. Now I need to show you that I want what's best for _you,_ and that I won't hurt _you_. Doing it my way is a little scarier than most people's way, I admit. But this is where Toothless and I live. It means a lot to me to share it with you."

"Have you ever shared it with anyone else?" she asked.

"The other dragon riders come up here on their own dragons," he answered. "Toothless and I almost always fly alone. I took a girl named Heather up here once, but... I wasn't thinking clearly that time. Mostly, the skies are a place people go by themselves, with just their dragons for company. You can be the exception to that rule if you want to."

"Do I need to know anything about this Heather?" she wondered.

"Only that she doesn't live around here, and that she'll go to any lengths to get what she wants," he replied. "If she ever comes back here, my advice would be, 'Like her if you want to, but don't trust her farther than you can throw her'."

"She doesn't sound like an old flame," Thora thought out loud.

"She _was _a flame, in the sense that I got burned," Hiccup said. "And thank you so much for bringing up such a painful subject! While you're at it, why don't you give me a nice paper cut and pour lemon juice on it?"

To his surprise, she hugged him tighter, and fear didn't seem to have anything to do with it. She chuckled slightly.

"No more talking about Heather – got it," she noted. "Are you always that sarcastic?"

"Usually," he nodded. "It gets me in trouble, sometimes."

"You and me both," she agreed.

"You, too?" He sounded amazed. "I thought I was the only Viking in the Northland with a sense of humor that nobody else appreciated."

"Hardly," she snorted. "I grew up thinking there was something wrong with _my _sense of humor. ''That's not funny, Thora.' 'I don't get it, Thora.' 'Was that supposed to be funny, Thora?' When you said that, I realized we actually have something in common."

"There are probably lots of things we have in common; we just don't know it yet," he nodded.

She suddenly realized that, while they were talking, Toothless was slowly gliding upwards, and the cloud layer was just a foot or two away from her head. "We're going to hit!" she cried, and ducked.

"No, we are _not _going to hit them!" he exclaimed. "Just reach up and touch them."

Slowly, hesitantly, she reached up with one hand. He heard her gasp in surprise as her hand went right into the cloud, feeling nothing but tiny droplets of moisture. She waved her hand back and forth and from side to side; she tried to grab a fistful of cloud, and gazed at her hand when there was nothing there, then reached up again.

It was the romantic flight all over again, except this time, it was for keeps.

"This is amazing," she sighed. "I had no idea... I'm probably the first Meathead ever to touch the clouds! Well, technically, I'm not a Meathead anymore, but you know what I mean."

"The clouds have that effect on people," he agreed. "Want to go higher?" She didn't answer, but nodded. Toothless took his cue and angled up slightly.

After about a minute of passing through the thickest fog she had ever seen, they burst out into the sunlight atop the cloud layer. She blinked hard, and looked around in wonder. Her fear of heights wasn't in play here – there were no visual cues that she was high off the ground. It was beautiful! She flung her arms around Hiccup and smiled. He smiled too.

"This is much better," she sighed happily. "If there was a way to go straight from the ground to up here, I wouldn't mind flying at all."

"Somebody once said, 'Getting there is half the fun.' We'll work on that," he said. "In the meantime, I'm glad you like it."

They flew on. She held him tight and kept him warm, and he loved every moment of that. Toothless, of course, was in his element, and he could tell Hiccup was happy. Toothless liked it when Hiccup was happy. This girl seemed to have something to do with it. That made her okay, to Toothless' way of thinking.

She began asking Hiccup questions about dragons, and he answered her every question, with many details she hadn't asked for and couldn't have guessed at. Would he have been so open if he'd known she was gathering information to pass on to her chief? She realized that, if she obeyed the order to tell Mogadon everything, she would be betraying her husband and her new people. But she was a Meathead – she couldn't just ignore a command from her former chief! No, technically, she wasn't a Meathead any more; her marriage had changed her allegiance. But her parents were Meatheads! Her father was the second-in-command over the whole tribe! How could she resolve this? She decided she'd take her information to her father instead, and let him deal with it.

After a long hour, they saw the top of a mountain poking up through the clouds. "That's our destination," Hiccup said, breaking the silence that had fallen on them. "Toothless, take us down." The dragon hesitated for a moment, then spiraled down through the clouds until they broke through the bottom of the layer.

"I don't know if I like this place," she said immediately. "It feels like death."

She was looking at a desolate rocky island dominated by the volcano they had seen above the clouds. There was no evidence of life to be seen anywhere. Toothless circled the island as he lost altitude. On the far side, they finally saw signs that there had once been life here: broken, burnt pieces of ships, a few shattered shields lying on the ground, and the bare white skeleton of a _huge _dragon.

"Is that the Red Death?" she asked.

"That's what's left of it," he replied, a bit nervously.

"It upsets you to see it," she observed.

"I don't come back here very often," he nodded. "The memories here are strong. Maybe it's a good thing that I don't remember a lot of it."

"You've forgotten parts of it? I admit, that surprises me."

"Actually, most of my time on this island was spent in a coma," he replied. "I remember arriving here, rescuing Toothless from a burning ship, reconciling with my dad, fighting a battle, the likes of which I hope I never see again... and the next thing I knew, I was at home in bed and half my leg was gone."

"That's a big dragon," she said, eager to change the subject. "It looks at least twice the size of a Monstrous Nightmare, right?"

"We're up a lot higher than you realize," he said. "You need to at least triple your guess."

That silenced her, and they both remained silent as they glided lower and lower, until they finally landed a few feet away from the great clubbed tail. Both were reluctant to leave the safety of Toothless' back, even though they knew the skeleton had no life in it. Finally, Hiccup unhitched his foot and slid down onto the rocky ground. Thora followed, in part to see the dragon and in part to stay close to Hiccup.

She reached up to touch one of the spikes on the club. She looked at the enormous skeleton, then at her husband. "You killed this thing..."

"Toothless killed this thing," he corrected her. "I came up with the plan, but he did all the work. Didn't you, bud?" He patted the dragon affectionately; Toothless rumbled back at him.

She shook her head. "He's amazing. I'm trying to imagine what that battle must have been like... my mind just doesn't think that _big_."

"Be thankful," he said ruefully. "I refight that battle in my head a couple of nights a week, every week. If I haven't woken you up with my nightmares yet, I probably will soon."

She dropped her hand from the skeletal tail and faced him. "If that happens, what should I do?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. No one has ever been in the room with me when it happens, except for Toothless. There have been a few times when I woke up on the floor with him, wrapped in his wings, with no idea how I got there. I figure those must be the nights I had the nightmares, and I turned to him for comfort."

She rested her hand on his shoulder, and noticed with pleasure that he didn't flinch. "Next time, please turn to _me _for comfort. I think I might offer you more than a dragon could."

"Well... I'd be happier if the nightmares ended so I'd never know, but otherwise, I'll probably put you to the test."

She turned back to the dragon skeleton. "I was going to suggest that we bring back one of its teeth to hang as a trophy on the wall in the Mead Hall, but its teeth are almost as big as I am."

He gazed at her, then beyond her at the huge bleaching bones. "Personally, I'd be happier without _any _reminders of this thing. The songs and the sagas always tell you all about the glory and honor of battle, but they never prepare you for the price the winners have to pay."

"The price the winners have to pay," she repeated. "That almost sounds poetic."

"Feel free to write a poem about it," he said, turning his back on the skeleton. "All I want to do is forget."

She wrapped her arms around him from behind and hugged him. "I can't make you forget," she whispered after a moment, "but I can take your mind off of it for a while if you'll let me."

He turned and held her tightly; he was trembling again. "I'd like that. Let's get out of here."


	19. Chapter 19

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 19

They flew home just above the clouds; Thora still felt safer there. As they glided in silence, she suddenly asked him, "Tell me about your friends."

"There isn't much to tell," he answered hesitantly. "Snotlout is a typical Viking, Ruffnut and Tuffnut are psycho, Fishlegs is a misfit who's too big to pick on, and... you know about Astrid. We all hang around together because we're the same age, but we don't have much else in common. I know _I_ never felt like I belonged to the group."

"Are they the same ones who mistreated you before you were their hero?" His shrug was all the answer she needed.

"They sound pretty two-faced to me. They treated you like dirt when they thought you were just a nobody, but as soon as you become famous, now they're your best buddies?"

He shrugged again. "Yeah, a lot of people treat me pretty badly when they don't know me, and change their tune once they get to know me better."

Was he just commenting on his life, or were his words a deliberate dagger into her heart? Yes, she had done exactly what she'd accused his friends of doing. She searched her soul for some kind of excuse for why it wasn't so bad when she'd done it, and she came up empty. They flew in silence again.

At last, just to break that oppressive silence, she asked, "Is there a reason there are so few young people on Berk?"

"We get the worst of the winter storms, because we're closer to the North Sea than the other Viking villages," he began. "We're also closest to the dragons' nest, so we got the worst of the dragon raids. Put those two together, and it means we often didn't have enough food to get through the winter. When that happens, it's the young and the sick who suffer the most. We had several years in a row when no babies made it through their first year.

"Finally, my dad made a hard decision. He told the village that the following year, as soon as a woman knew she was going to have a baby, she would get extra food to keep her strength up. If she was sick, she got the best treatment Gothi could give, and everyone else had to wait and hope her supply of herbs didn't run out. Once the baby was born, that house got extra firewood to keep it warm, and the extra food for the mother kept coming until the child was weaned.

"That meant everyone else in the village suffered and sacrificed. There wasn't enough food anyway, and giving the mothers-to-be an extra ration meant even tighter belts for everyone else. But Dad was determined to make an all-or-nothing effort to save our next generation. When he found out that my mother was expecting, he took all his meals in the Mead Hall and slept in the guest home, so no one could say he was benefiting from his own plan.

"Seven babies were born that year. One came too early; he wouldn't have lived, no matter what we did. But the other six lived and thrived, including a set of twins, so my dad's plan worked. Even the hungriest of his warriors told him he was a good chief after that. We still do the same thing every three or four years, depending on the food supply. It shouldn't be so bad, now that the dragon raids are over, but for as long as I've been alive, we've made our children in batches, rather than continuously like most tribes do."

She thought about that for a second. "You were one of those first six?"

"That's the main reason I'm alive," he nodded. "If it hadn't been for that maximum effort, I probably would have died, just like all the other weak, sickly babies."

_That _thought brought her up short. "You were born at just the right time," she finally said.

"And the right place," he added. "If I'd been born into one of those tribes that believe the strong should survive and the weak deserve to be left behind... I'd be dead."

Again, his words stabbed at her heart. Her father had raised her on that very concept; it was one that all Meatheads accepted as unalterable truth. Mogadon would never have taken the action Stoick had taken. It would have been perceived as weakness in himself, and he would have been deposed as chief.

How many wonderful children, how many Hiccups, had been allowed to die because they didn't measure up on the outside?

"You're awfully quiet back there," he said.

"You're giving me a lot to think about," she replied.

"Thinking is good," he commented. "Of course, you won't find many Vikings who feel that way, but you're stuck with one of the few who does. Lucky you."

"You're not the first one who's called me 'lucky' this week," she answered.

"Huh. Good luck or bad luck?"

"I'm thinking good luck," she decided.

"_That's_ a first," he said, so quietly she wasn't sure she was meant to hear it.

At supper that night, a steady stream of well-wishers stopped at their table to ask them how they liked married life. Thora noticed that none of the other teens was among them. She mentioned it to Hiccup.

"We're not part of 'them' any more," he answered. "We're married now; we've crossed a line and gone to a place they can't go. You might say we've graduated out of their group."

"But we're still the same age," she protested. "We still have the same things in common that we always did."

"Which isn't much," he replied. "You and I are sharing a house now; we're sharing a bed; we're sharing a life. They have absolutely no idea what that means – heck, I'm not sure _I_ know what it means, and I'm right in the middle of it! They don't know what to say to us any more."

"So we're on our own?" she asked.

"Pretty much," he nodded. "There are a few couples in town who are a little older than we are; we can make friends with them. My friends will get their own wives and husbands soon enough, and once they've caught up with us, those old friendships can be renewed. They'll be different, though. We won't have spare time to hang out and do nothing any more. You'll sit and talk to your friends while you're mending clothes or..." He almost said "...or nursing a baby," but that thought made him squirm. "...or making a quilt or something. I'll chat with the guys when they stop by the forge to have their weapons and tools sharpened."

"What you're saying is, even though we're just a few days older than we were on our wedding day, we've suddenly turned into adults," she said.

"Thank you for summing that up," he nodded, then added, "How do you feel about that?"

How did she feel about that?

Unlike Hiccup, she'd had a normal childhood – happy, busy, well-organized. Her parents were there for her when she needed them; she was still very close to her father. She had friends whom she'd played with, learned with, and gotten into trouble with. They'd envied the adults who went on raids and fought dragons, and they'd played fighting games and pretended they were grown-ups.

The entire time, her father was telling her something that the other children probably didn't hear. "Thora, you're destined for better things than them. They're going to grow up and marry someone from the village, but not you. You're the oldest girl in Mogadon's extended family, and you're also the prettiest.

"Someday you're going to marry a man who's great, and powerful, and influential. That means _you _will be great, and powerful, and influential. You need to enjoy your childhood, and don't rush adulthood. It will come fast enough, and when it does, you can't go back to being a little girl anymore."

A chief's wife! That had to be what he meant! To marry a chief was the greatest destiny a Meathead girl could aspire to. Yes, some women had slain dragons, but that was only because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and either showed unexpected courage and skill, or got lucky. A special destiny awaited her; her father said so! She didn't let it go to her head, the way Thuggory did when he was younger, before his father straightened him out. Thuggory learned his lesson and got himself back on an even keel, and it looked like he would be one of the Meatheads' greatest chiefs some day. Meanwhile, she learned her own lessons – cooking, sewing, gardening, trimming hair, treating minor wounds – and waited with growing impatience for her destiny to arrive.

Now her destiny was here, sitting right next to her.

Hiccup, with his pipe-stem arms and his mastery of weapon-smithing and his nonexistent battle skills and his Night Fury and his father who was the chief of Berk. Hiccup would be chief of his village some day, and when he rose, he would take her with him. She would find her destiny by his side.

She suddenly wasn't sure she was _ready _for that.

Memories flashed through her mind – a little girl throwing a beanbag back and forth with her mother... fishing with her father off the docks of the harbor... learning to make quilts with her grandmother, and finishing their first one together... talking about boys with her girl friends, and finding out they all thought the same way she did, namely, that boys are jerks... playing Spin-the-Spearhead with her teen-age friends, and hoping she wouldn't have to kiss Agnir with all his pimples, and finding out he was actually pretty nice if she didn't look at him too closely...

Where did her childhood go? How did her destiny sneak up on her and ambush her, and take away everything she'd ever known in the process? Now she was married to a young man she hardly knew, living in a strange village full of people she hadn't grown up with, destined to help her husband rule over them some day, and as she thought about that, all she felt was a powerful longing to get her little beanbag back.

"Take me home," she said suddenly.

He looked concerned. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yes, I just need to... please take me home."

He rose and walked with her to their house. It wasn't what she thought of as "home" – not yet – but it would do. They closed the door, and she flung her arms around him and held him. He hugged her back, not sure what was wrong or what to say. Maybe she didn't know him well, but she knew him better than anyone else she'd met here. She knew she was safe with him, and if he wasn't the manliest man she'd ever met, at least he was concerned about her and wanted to comfort her.

She realized, with a mental jolt, that this wasn't even _close _to how her grand plan was supposed to be unfolding.

_She _was supposed to be calling the shots and making all the arrangements. She was supposed to be making this marriage into something that would benefit _her _and make _her _great. She was supposed to be in control.

Instead, she found herself doing everything in her power to make _his _life better and to make _him _happy. When she felt scared and lonely, she found herself leaning on _him. He _was in control! How did everything get so backwards?

"Is there anything I –"

"Just hold me," she whispered. It was like the scene in the forest this morning, only in reverse – she was the hurting, confused one, and he was providing the strength she needed. She didn't cry. She just needed to feel... safe.

She'd always associated safety with her father. He was the one to whom she ran when she was scared of thunder; he was the one who made things right when the boys pushed her down; he was the one who kept the dragons away from their house. Now she had a husband – an unlikely husband, but a husband nonetheless – and it felt _natural _for her to turn to him when she needed to feel safe. Somehow, in spite of his lack of physical strength, she found that safety in his arms. Her fears and unease slowly ebbed away, leaving only a feeling of...

_No._

This was _not _happening.

There was absolutely _no way_ under Valhalla that she could _possibly _be falling in love with this boy!

_He _was supposed to be falling in love with _her!_ He was supposed to become dependent on _her!_ That was the plan! That was how she'd keep control over him! That was why she was being so nice to him, and giving herself to him whenever he wanted her, and even fighting her fear of heights to ride his dragon with him!

That was the reason, wasn't it?

How could this thin, green-eyed boy be causing her entire life to come unglued, and come back together in patterns that were as much to his benefit as hers?

As she clung to him, she realized it might be time to think about making a new plan. Hiccup wasn't just an unexpectedly nice guy; he wasn't just her ticket to a life of power and privilege. Maybe... just maybe... he might be good for her.

She thought about how near he might have come to death in infancy, were it not for an accident of time and place. If that had happened, where would _she _be now?

When they came together that night, Hiccup noticed a difference. While catching his breath after a particularly ardent kiss, he whispered, "You seem kind of eager tonight."

"I've been learning about how special you are," she whispered back, "but I never realized you might be one of a kind."

As they lay side by side afterward, she took a deep breath. "Hiccup... I think I love you."

She felt him turn rigid. "Uhh... Uhh... I, uhh..."

"It's okay," she whispered, and stroked his shoulder. "I know you don't feel that way. Don't feel like you have to say something that isn't true. I just want you to know how I feel."

He relaxed, just a little bit. "Umm... wow. Well, I, uhh... I think you're very special."

"That's a start," she sighed happily. Her old plan probably wouldn't have worked anyway. Yes, she needed a new plan, and it wouldn't be fancy or complicated. In fact, it might be the most natural thing she'd ever done.


	20. Chapter 20

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 20

For Astrid, the days of the wedding celebration weren't quite a nightmare, but they came pretty close.

She couldn't force herself to attend the wedding or the reception. Her parents knew that, and they understood. Edda cooked and stored a few days' worth of meals for her, so her daughter could stay away from the Mead Hall without starving. Her parents promised to bring plenty of food back to their house once the party got rolling, and they'd try to stay at the house for a little while each day so Astrid would have someone to talk to.

Her biggest problem was what to do with herself. Almost everyone in town was either doing necessary work or spending all their time at the wedding reception, and that was the _last _place she wanted to go. Berk was a ghost town if you didn't want to be a wedding guest. She could go anywhere she wanted, and do anything she wanted... but she had nowhere to go and nothing to do, and even if she did, there was no one to do it with.

She spent extra time in the woods, practicing with her axe, but that wasn't as much fun as she'd thought it would be when every moment of practice had to be stolen from some other activity. She spent plenty of time with Stormfly, and her dragon certainly liked that, but there were limits to how long she could sit in the saddle without getting uncomfortable. She rearranged everything in her room, and then put it all back the way it was. She looked up the hill at the Mead Hall, and wondered what would happen if she walked in the door.

No matter where she went or what she did, she couldn't get Hiccup out of her mind, or the dull ache out of her heart.

He was somewhere on this island, with _her,_ and _she_ was trying to win him over for herself, and, Hiccup being Hiccup, she was probably beginning to succeed. She was probably laughing at his sarcastic comments, and bringing him food, and batting her eyes at him, and doing all the things girls do to get and keep a boy's attention. In this case, because the rings were on and the vows had been said, there were no limits on what she could do to win his favor... Astrid shook her head violently to chase _that _mental picture away.

When her father mentioned that Hiccup had failed on his first night as a married man, she had to bite her tongue to keep from cheering out loud. She knew he had passions, like any other teen-aged boy. If those passions had hit a speed bump, it could only be something to do with _her_. If he couldn't get past that...

...then what?

The marriage would be annulled. Berk would be back at war with the Meatheads. That didn't seem so bad to Astrid – after all, Vikings were _always _at war with _somebody_. If the marriage were annulled, then Hiccup would be free to pursue her again. Would she want to marry a man who couldn't perform as a man? _Yes,_ she said to herself, quite emphatically. She was sure she could find a way to spark his interest in that way, even if no one else could. He had never had _that_ problem when she was with him!

What if Stoick turned around and pledged him to someone else on yet another island? He wouldn't do that if his son had performance issues. She, Astrid, would be the only girl with any interest in him at all. His failure last night might be the best news she'd heard in months.

She joyfully hurled her axe through the air in the forest, sending chunks of tree bark flying. She flew with Stormfly for almost two hours, and encouraged her Nadder to try the wildest stunts she could think of. Life was looking up. She knew her mother would be at home just after lunch, so she went to let her know she and her dragon would be taking a nice long glide all afternoon.

She stuck her head in the door. "Mama, is it okay if I –" and she stopped. There, seated at _her _place at the table in _her _house, talking to _her _mother, was the girl who had taken Hiccup away from her.

Her eyes went wide. She stared in utter horror for a few seconds, then turned and ran. She got about five steps before the tears welled up, and she couldn't hold them back any longer. She hid behind the tool shed and wept bitterly, hopelessly, like the weak girls do, because her strength had finally run out.

Her father, taking a break from the butcher shop for a few minutes (he was one of those workers who had plenty to do during the reception), heard her and tried to console her. He failed. "Dad, you just don't understand!" she sobbed. He gave up and left.

A minute later, her mother took his place. She didn't say a word to Astrid; she just took her daughter in her arms and rocked her, like she did when Astrid was three years old and afraid of the dragons outside. For a few minutes, Astrid let herself be three years old again. But it couldn't last. She dried her eyes, and she was back to being a teen-ager, and Hiccup was still married to Thora.

"Come on inside and we'll talk," her mother said.

"What if _she's_ still there?"

"I'll ask her nicely to leave. _You're_ my daughter." Edda seemed pretty firm on that point. They walked together back into the house. The other girl was gone. Astrid sat down heavily; Edda poured her a cup of goat's milk and sat next to her. They were silent for a few seconds.

"Mama... I feel like I'm falling apart," she finally quavered. "I've lost my boyfriend, I thought I was losing my mother, I'm afraid I'm losing my mind..."

"For starters, you can cross #2 off your list of worries," her mother began. "She needed someone to talk to – she's lonely, confused, and out of place – and I'm not mean enough to ignore someone who needs help. But she is not, repeat, _not _going to take your place in this house, or in my mind or my heart."

She patted her daughter's hand. "You've been putting up a brave front for a long time. I was wondering when it was going to fall. There are limits to what people, even you, can handle. I'm glad you're still willing to talk to me about things."

"No one really understands," Astrid said miserably, staring at the table.

"Maybe not," her mother answered, "but we're all hurting because of this."

" 'We?' How are 'we' hurting?" she demanded.

"Honey, we _like _Hiccup! He was over here all the time, and not just with you – I was almost a substitute mother to him! He talked to me about things that were bothering him, things he couldn't talk about with his father. I think he went to your father for some man-to-man stuff now and then, too. There wasn't _anyone_ your father or I would have preferred as a son-in-law. And now, thanks to... _this_... that entire friendship is probably ended. He can't come here without making you or himself horribly uncomfortable. Chances are, he'll never talk to me one-on-one again. I know it's not the same as what you're going through, but this thing has affected all of us."

"_She _was talking to you one-on-one," Astrid muttered.

"For starters, I don't think she knew who I was," Edda replied. "Honey, I know it's asking too much for you to have any compassion on anybody else right now, especially her, but she's hurting almost as much as you are. She's been pulled away from her family and her tribe, she's been dropped into a strange town full of strange people, she's been thrown into the arms of a boy she doesn't even know –"

"Then we'll switch places!" Astrid exclaimed. "I'll take the boy, and she can go home, and everybody will be happy again!" For a moment, she seemed to have a spark of energy and life; then the spark burned out and she slumped down again. "I wish."

"We all wish," Edda sighed, "but that decision was made for us by the chief. All we can do is find some way to keep on going, because the world isn't going to stop and wait for us to figure it out."

"That's not very comforting," she sighed.

"Astrid," Edda said softly, "did you really think I'd have all the answers?"

"You used to, back when I was little!"

"Your life was a lot simpler back then," her mother said. "If a boy chased you, it was so he could throw a rock or a dead fish at you, and you'd just beat him with a stick until he learned some manners."

"Hiccup never did throw a rock at me," she said, as her mind wandered years away. "I think I threw one at _him _once, just so he wouldn't think I liked him."

"It didn't work," Edda said with a touch of a smile. Then she reached over and wrapped her arms around her daughter, who returned the hug with all her strength.

"Thank you, Mama," she whispered. "I actually feel a little better, for now at least." After a few more moments, she rose, drained her cup of goat's milk in one long swallow, and walked out the door.

Edda watched her go. She'd toyed with the idea of telling Astrid the other news, but this was obviously not the time or the place. Her daughter had been hiding for days, but she wasn't doing a very good job of it. Pretty girls are hard to hide. Some of the visiting Meatheads had noticed her, and they had engaged Gunnarr in polite but focused conversation.

The Meatheads in question all had teen-aged sons. He said he kept hearing the word "engagement."


	21. Chapter 21

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 21

The newlyweds woke up the next morning facing each other. His hair was disheveled and his breath wasn't the greatest, but he smiled when he saw her looking at him. She kissed him, and they held each other for several minutes under the quilt and the sleeping furs. He didn't seem compelled to do more than that, for now at least. It was nice just to cuddle.

Then the house shook from a crash on the roof, and reverberated from an impatient roar.

"Fly-bye time again?" she asked lazily.

"You could come with us," he suggested as he swung out of bed and began re-attaching his leg.

"Would you fly straight and level, like yesterday?"

"Not a chance," he answered. "Toothless gets his crazies out of his system on our morning flight. I hate to say it, but if you like straight and level, you're better off staying on the ground."

"Is he that wild?" she wondered.

"Tuffnut once told me he was bored, so I took him on a typical morning ride. _He _said _I _was insane! Then he wanted to do it again, of course." Toothless roared again. "I need to get a move on. If I try his patience too much, it's just a matter of time before he figures out how to work the door latch and let himself in."

She nodded. "No dragons in here; we agree on that much."

He gave her a surprised look. "I didn't say he shouldn't be in here. I said he shouldn't learn how to let himself in. He'd leave the door open and we'd freeze."

She looked back at him levelly. "No dragons in here. Period."

He shrugged. "We'll negotiate on that one later. I'll be back in an hour or so." The house shook from another crash as he ran for the door. "I'm coming, Toothless!"

_It didn't take us long to find something to disagree on,_ she thought crossly as she got dressed. On further reflection, she realized that she'd initially expected to find all kinds of disagreements with him. So far, they'd found only one, and he'd used the word "negotiate," rather than more Meathead-like words like "demand" or "order." Even when they disagreed, he still kept on surprising her!

When Hiccup returned at the end of his flight, looking very windblown, she didn't bring up the dragon-in-the-house issue. Instead, she led him to their bed and pointed to an odd-shaped lump perched on the headboard. "What _is _that?" she asked.

He picked it up with a tender expression. "This is a stuffed toy my mother made for me when I was very small. It's supposed to be a Deadly Nadder." He chuckled a bit. "I was afraid of it when I was a child. I threw it in the ocean when I thought no one was looking. It turned up years later in some fisherman's net. I don't know how my dad found out about it, or what he paid to get it back, but... aside from my helmet, it's all I have left of my mother."

"And your childhood," she added, thinking of her ruminations yesterday.

"I don't miss my childhood at all," he said firmly, putting the Nadder back in its place of honor. "I think it ended on the day I realized that my dad didn't have my back, and I was pretty much on my own. I've spent the rest of my life trying to be an adult, and trying to convince everyone else that I had grown up."

"Did that change when you trained Toothless?" she asked.

"Not really," he replied. "I think it's finally starting to change, now that I'm married to you." He paused. "Do you miss your childhood?"

"A little," she nodded. "Life was simpler then, I had fewer responsibilities, and if something went wrong, my father was always there to make it right." His face fell and he looked away; she realized she'd inadvertently hit him in a sore spot. She embraced him, and he returned the hug.

"I think I envy you," he said quietly.

When he let her go, she had an idea. "Hiccup, wait here. I'll be back in a few minutes." She was out the door before he could ask her what she was doing.

He sat down on the bed and took stock of his situation. It certainly wasn't what he'd expected.

Thora had somehow changed from an ice princess into a very pleasing girl. She wasn't demanding or sharp-tongued, she wasn't trying to dominate him, and she certainly knew how to keep a young man happy. She seemed to be made mostly of positive qualities.

The only thing she lacked was that she wasn't Astrid. That was a tough hurdle for any girl to surmount. Well, any girl except one. But he hadn't spent his every waking moment thinking about Astrid, the way he'd feared. That was partially because Thora was so good at distracting him and drawing his thoughts toward herself.

He knew he had to get over his girlfriend and focus entirely on his wife. Anything less would be a betrayal of his vow to be faithful, even if no one else ever knew about it. It didn't seem possible that he could find happiness in another girl's arms... and yet, that was exactly what he'd found in Thora's arms for these past couple of days. When she hugged him, he didn't want to let go, and when she kissed him... wow. She didn't attack him with her kisses; it felt like they were sharing something. And when they went beyond kissing... double-wow. Maybe triple-wow, now that he thought about it. The absence of pummeling on his arms was nice, too.

A part of him refused to let go of the girl he'd loved all his life. That part of him was getting outvoted by the rest of him. He knew it would be a sad day when he stopped thinking about Astrid altogether; it would be a sort of final transition into adulthood, leaving behind the last and dearest aspects of his youth. But he also knew that day had to come, and if Thora kept on drawing him the way she was drawing him now, that day would come sooner rather than later.

Of course, it really helped that he hadn't seen Astrid since before the wedding.

He decided he liked married life. It was nice to have someone around who listened to him and cared what he thought. She was no doormat, but she wanted to please him. She wasn't very warm toward Toothless, but that was understandable – her village thought it was still at war with the dragons – and she might change her mind with the passage of time. It took Berk a lot longer than two days to adjust to dragons on the roof; it wouldn't be fair to expect her to get over a lifelong fear and hatred, just like _that_.

His thoughts were interrupted by Thora's return. She brought two breakfast platters from the Mead Hall, piled with bacon, eggs, ham, bread, and cups of cow's milk. "I thought it was time we ate a meal alone together," she explained as she sat on a bench by the firepit.

"Thank you," he exclaimed, surprised. "I'm not used to being waited on."

"I can't promise I'll do this every day," she smiled, "but knowing that you appreciate it makes me want to do it again."

As they were finishing their meal, they heard a light tapping at the door. Hiccup opened it, and was quite surprised to find Gobber. He looked embarrassed.

"Mornin', Hiccup. Mornin', Thora. Hiccup, I know ye just got married an' all, but I've got a bit of a problem in the forge, an' I could really use yer help."

"What kind of problem in the forge could be worth interrupting a man's honeymoon?" she demanded.

"It's yer uncle, Chief Mogadon," the smith replied. "He was showin' off 'is favorite sword at the party, wavin' it around, and... I dinna know how it 'appened, but he bent it, an' he wants it fixed, _now_. He didn't come out an' say it, but I think he'd be flattered if our local sword expert got 'is hands on it, an' I know the work will go faster if we both do it."

"I assume the forge isn't lit?" Hiccup asked.

"It's stone cold," Gobber nodded.

Hiccup turned to Thora. "This will probably take at least two hours, between heating the forge, straightening the sword, and putting a good edge on it. It's not how I planned to spend today, but... duty calls. Do you mind? I'll be back before lunch."

"It's okay – I understand about duty. I should be here when you get done." She gave him a quick kiss on the lips, which made him blush (Gobber was watching), and he left for the forge with the master smith.

His departure was actually very well-timed. She needed a few minutes alone with her father.

He was in the guest home, slowly getting ready for another day of wild partying. He had the constitution of an ox, but Stoick was serving some potent brews in the Hall, and it was beginning to tell on him. Still, he brightened when he saw his daughter and gave her an affectionate hug.

"Is everything going okay?" he asked.

"It's... it's not a bit what I thought it would be like," she nodded. "Can we go for a walk?" He nodded, and they made their way to the deserted harbor front.

"Father, Hiccup told me some things about dragons," she began.

"That didn't take you long," he nodded. "Were they interesting things?"

"You have no idea!" she exclaimed. "You've heard about that Red Death that he killed? I've seen its bones – it was almost as long as this harbor is wide! But that's not the _really _interesting part."

"I'm listening," he said.

"Hiccup said the dragons raided us just so they could feed that Red Death. Now that it's dead, they won't raid us any more. That's why Berk has peace with them!"

Megadeth considered this revelation. "If that's true, then it means the dragons won't attack us, either. Berk isn't the threat that we thought they were."

Thora knew where _that _idea was going, and it terrified her. "Father, no! If war breaks out again – if we break the treaty we just signed – I'll be nothing but a hostage! They'll kill me first!"

"War and peace are Mogadon's decision, not mine," he said sadly. "All I can do is tell him what you've told me. He doesn't always listen to good advice, but he won't do anything totally stupid."

"Besides," she went on urgently, "a lot of the dragons have riders, and they'll do whatever those riders tell them to do. Berk could still bring at least half a dozen dragons on a raid if they wanted to. Maybe more – I'm not sure." When he didn't seem convinced, she added, "They have a Night Fury."

Megadeth looked at his daughter speculatively. "How much control do you think you have over that Night Fury's rider?"

"Control? None. Influence? Maybe quite a bit, but I couldn't convince him to go against his own tribe and his own father."

He thought for a few more seconds, then suddenly gathered her up in his huge arms. She could have sworn he was shaking. "I've always been a faithful Meathead," he murmured. "I've let my brother be the chief, and I've obeyed his every command. He wants Berk's dragon secrets, and I've promised to get them. But you're my little girl..." He took a deep breath, then another, and let her go. "You haven't even been here a week. You can't possibly know if all these things Hiccup told you are really true. I need more information before I can tell the chief anything." He stared into her eyes. "Gather some more facts for me, Thora. Take your _time_. Okay?"

She understood the message and nodded. "I'll talk to more people. Some of them might be hard to catch up with, and they might not trust me at first. It could take weeks, maybe even months."

"I'll pass _that _on to Mogadon," he nodded innocently. "But enough about the dragons. Talk to me about your handsome husband."

"Well... he's not at all what I expected."

"Do you think you can be happy?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, with no hesitation. That surprised him; he raised an eyebrow but didn't comment.

"Is he treating you well?"

"Of course he is – we're on our honeymoon! The women at the washing told me he'll probably be on his best behavior for two or three weeks, and then I should expect reality to come crashing in."

"What do you think that will mean, in his case?"

She thought for a moment. "He'll probably want to bring his dragon into the house." Her father snickered until he realized she was serious.

"His _dragon?_ In the house?"

She nodded. "He's almost as close to that dragon as he is to me, I think. Maybe closer. I noticed he built the house with extra-wide doors; I'm wondering if that was his plan all along. But if that's his worst fault, I'm sure we'll find some way to work it out."

"If that's his worst fault..." he echoed her, then rested a hand on her forehead. "Are you feeling okay, Thora? Is this the girl who had endless complaints and nothing good to say about her future husband?"

She nudged his hand away. "Father, it's like I said. He isn't who I thought he was."

"So who is he, really?" he asked. "Is he brave? Strong? Romantic?"

"He's a little of all those things," she decided, "but mostly, he's just... nice."

"Can you live with 'just nice'?" he wondered.

"Yes," she said emphatically. "I had no idea how nice 'nice' could be."

He shook his head, but smiled. "You really surprise me sometimes, Thora."

"Not half as much as he's surprised me," she replied, with a matching smile.


	22. Chapter 22

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 22

The rest of their day, and the next few days, passed pretty much the same way. Hiccup would ride Toothless early, they would eat their breakfast together (sometimes in the Mead Hall, sometimes in their house), walk in the forest until lunch, take a sedate, steady dragon ride in the early afternoon, socialize with the wedding guests in the Mead Hall for an hour or two, eat supper there, then go home and hang out the "Do Not Disturb" sign.

One afternoon, Hiccup got a special request from his father. "Chief Mogadon wants you to take his son for a dragon ride."

"Thuggory? How does he feel about that?"

"I'm sure you and he can work out the details together. They're at the guest home."

"Okay, Dad." He turned to Thora. "This won't take as long as a morning ride. I don't want to scare him, but I do want to give him something to think about."

"I'm sure you and Toothless will do a fine job of that," she smiled. Stoick's timing was good. As her husband and his dragon glided across town to the guest house, she made her stealthy way to the Hofferson home.

She tapped on the door and heard Edda call, "Come in!" She stuck her head in the doorway and made sure Astrid wasn't around before she entered and sat down.

"Astrid is gone for the day," Edda said as she finished mending a jagged rip in one of her husband's butcher's aprons.

"I really don't want to cause any more scenes between her and you," Thora began.

"Maybe it would be safer if you talked to your own mother?" Edda wondered.

"My mother is... indisposed."

"You mean she isn't used to so much ale and mead, free for the taking?"

"I mean she's passed-out drunk on the bed in the guest house, and she'll be lucky to wake up in time for supper," Thora corrected her. "Mom almost never drinks, and when she does, she doesn't realize how it affects her until it knocks her off her feet. She'll be okay, except for the inside of her head."

"Well, you're here, and I'm pleased that you trust me that much," Edda replied. "Let me guess: you're confused about something?"

"I'm a newlywed. I think it's an occupational hazard," Thora smiled, trying to make light of it. "When you were adjusting to marriage, did you ever want to... be in control?"

"In control of the marriage? I suppose everyone does," Edda said thoughtfully. "There are girls who live to meet their husband's needs, and there are even a few men who are glad to let their wives make all the decisions, but most of us like to have some feeling of control over our lives." She waited for Thora to continue.

"How do you handle it when you feel that control slipping away?" the girl finally asked.

Edda smiled. "I can still remember my own ceremonial washing, and my great-aunt telling me, 'Edda, the day may come when you feel like he's got a huge amount of control over your life, even though he isn't trying to dominate you. When that happens, rejoice and be glad, because it probably means you love him.' When you love someone, you give that person the ultimate control over your happiness. He can lift you up with a word, or tear you down with a glance. That's why it's so important to _not _give your heart to someone who isn't worthy of that kind of trust." She paused and glanced slyly at Thora. "Do you think you're falling in love with him?"

Thora looked at something on the wall and nodded slightly.

Edda rested her hand on Thora's. "I'm not surprised, although it _did _happen faster than I expected. Hiccup seems to have that effect on girls once they get to know him. I'm not sure why; it certainly isn't his rugged face or his bulging muscles. Those things have nothing to do with love anyway." She noticed Thora still looking away. "You don't feel bad about it, do you?"

Thora shook her head in confusion. "I love how he makes me feel, but... I had this wonderful plan for my life! I was going to marry someone famous and powerful, and that would make _me _famous and powerful, and now I'm married to someone who's _going _to be famous and powerful, and all I want to do is help him! It's like my destiny is coming unraveled, and then it's coming back together _his _way! There are probably things I could do to regain some power over him, but I don't want to! Does that make any sense?"

Edda smiled again. "We women are not powerless against our husbands. But we can't go about it the usual Viking way. Let me share something with you." She went to the house's food-storage area, found a box full of thin wooden slabs covered with runes, and leafed through the slabs until she found the one she wanted.

"My husband traded a mutton shank for this box of recipes a few years ago," she said as she sat down again. "He figured, if only one or two of them were any good, it was worth it. We actually use several of them pretty often, but this one... whenever Hiccup ate supper with us and I cooked this dish, he'd practically inhale it and ask for more. Cook this for him, once a week or so, and he'll love you for it."

She proceeded to describe her method of sticking small bits of fish together, breading them, and cooking them over the fire. "I call them Haddock Delights, after Hiccup's last name, even though you don't have to use haddock – almost any fish will do. He just calls them 'fish sticks.' They're one of his favorites. Do you like cooking, Thora?"

"I suppose," she answered. "My mother taught me what I need to know, and I can make a meal that no one will complain about, but it's not something I do for fun."

"That may change, once you put a smile on his face from something he ate. Remember, you're in charge of whatever happens inside the house, so you choose the menu. He can't take that control away from you. Most men don't even want to. They don't say, 'I want to eat this tonight;' they just say, 'What's for supper?' and, unless they hate it, they eat whatever you put in front of them. That gives you a little bit of control, and it's fun sometimes."

"Wait. _I'm_ in charge of whatever happens inside the house?" Thora asked, suddenly very interested.

"Yes, that's how it traditionally works in Viking homes," Edda nodded. "You control what's inside, he controls what's outside. That's why you wear those keys on your belt sash. It's a sign of your authority over everything in your house."

"So if he wants to bring his dragon into the house, and I say 'no,' who wins?"

"Usually, you should win," Edda said, slowly and thoughtfully, "but if you're wise, you will tread lightly when it comes to him and his dragon. I'm not completely used to the beasts myself – Astrid has one, and I would _never _allow it in _my _house – but with Hiccup and Toothless, it's different."

"That's what he keeps telling me," she said.

"You know that dragon stayed beside him the whole time he was unconscious, right?"

"Unconscious? When?"

"After that awful battle, when he lost his leg," Edda recalled. "He was out for weeks. A lot of us thought he wouldn't make it. The whole time, that dragon stayed beside him and _would not leave_. Hiccup is used to him being around all the time. You could say he's an indoor dragon already. That's not to say he won't knock stuff over if you let him into your kitchen, but... don't be too quick to lay down the law when it comes to that dragon. You don't want to start a battle you can't win."

"Aren't there ways a woman can _make_ a man do what she wants?" Thora asked.

"Yes, there are lots of ways, and almost all of them are bad for your marriage," Edda said firmly. "You can nag him. You can withhold yourself from him at night. You can feed him bread and water. You can sulk. You can throw tantrums. You can burst into tears and manipulate his emotions. You can give him the silent treatment. They'll all work, if by 'work' you mean getting your own way. But they'll also hurt your marriage, and if you really care about the guy, you have to realize you're hurting him as well. It's a foolish wife who tears down her house with her own hands."

"The more I learn about being married, the more complicated it gets," Thora sighed.

"Every one of us has made mistakes in our marriage," Edda replied. "The things I'm telling you are lessons that my friends and I learned the hard way. One of the biggest of those lessons is, 'Choose your battles.' Compromising and making deals on the big issues is the only way two people can live in the same house without hating each other. Once you go to war, there has to be a loser, and that loser might be you, it might be Hiccup, or it might be both of you. What good is it to be the winner, if the man you love is the loser?"

"That's the exact _opposite _of how we Vikings are taught to think!" Thora exclaimed.

"Now you're getting the idea," Edda smiled.

"Save the battles for the battlefield," the younger woman said slowly. "I think I get it."

"And cook fish sticks for him," Edda added.


	23. Chapter 23

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 23

While Thora was getting advice from Edda Hofferson, Hiccup was taking Thuggory for a ride he'd never forget.

It was essentially the same ride Toothless had given Astrid just before their romantic flight together (that memory still gave him pangs), except they didn't level off and fly in the clouds after the diving, spinning part. Instead, Toothless put on a display of marksmanship. Thuggory would choose one of the rocks that rose out of the sea, Hiccup would direct his dragon's attention to it, and two or three seconds later, that rock would erupt with the impact of a blue fireball. It didn't matter how small the rock was, or how distant, or how many other rocks nearly blocked Toothless' line of sight to it; he never missed.

"Hiccup, that was really impressive," Thuggory said as they dismounted afterwards. "I didn't think much of your swordsmanship, but you're a real warrior in other ways. As one chief's son to another, that was awesome."

"Thank you," Hiccup replied, surprised. He and Toothless walked back to the house as Mogadon's son sought his father and gave his report.

"...and that was just _one_ dragon," Thuggory concluded. "I don't like the idea of a whole flock of dragons descending on our village, guided by Berk warriors like Hiccup. Their land warriors wouldn't even have to fight us; they'd just wait until the fireworks were over, then stroll into town and help themselves to whatever was left."

"We have a treaty," Mogadon answered. "They won't be attacking us any time soon."

"Father, you're always telling me to think like a chief," Thuggory replied. "If I was in your place, I would make _doubly _sure about keeping peace with Berk. One battle with them and their dragons on our own turf would be the end of us."

"Doubly sure," the chief repeated. "That means two times, right? Let me think about that."

The reception party lasted eight days (Stoick added another day to the festivities by popular demand), and it went surprisingly smoothly for all concerned. There were a few near-flare-ups between Berk's Vikings and the Meatheads when the ale was flowing freely, but for the most part, everyone put aside old hatreds and shared a pleasant time with each other.

The only incident happened on the fifth day. A Meathead who had become a mead-head remembered that he had slain eleven dragons so far, and decided to complete his "dragon dozen" at the expense of one of Berk's tame-looking fire-breathers. He found a small light-blue Nadder that looked like an easy target, and made sure that no one else was watching. But when he pulled out his axe, the Nadder squawked, and the Meathead suddenly found himself surrounded by his intended victim, a much larger Nadder that might have been the smaller one's mother, three Gronckles, and both heads of a Zippleback. None of them looked happy.

"Heh heh, just joking," he smiled as he stuck his axe back in his belt. "I'll be leaving now. Bye." The dragons drew aside to let him go. But as he walked away, the mother Nadder flicked her tail and let fly with one well-aimed spine, which caught the Meathead squarely in the seat of his pants. He screamed and pulled the spine out before much of the venom could leak into his system, but he was sick for days and unable to sit normally for weeks.

At last, the party came to an end. It was time for the Meatheads to go home. It was time for Thora to say goodbye to her parents. It might be years before she saw them again.

While she was hugging her mother and sniffling, Megadeth motioned to Hiccup that he wanted to talk to him. Hiccup's blood ran cold.

"Whatever she says I did, I didn't mean it, and I promise it will never happen again," he blurted out.

"She hasn't told us anything bad about you all week," Megadeth answered, trying to look stern. "As your father-in-law, tradition requires me to say the part about how you'd better take good care of my little girl. But it seems as though you're already doing that." His manner softened.

"Just remember, our town is only two days away from here. Maybe you could bring her back for a visit some day?"

Hiccup didn't mention the part about how his town was less than two hours away on dragonback. He just nodded. "We can probably do that some day. Thank you for the invitation."

Then it was Megadeth's turn to say goodbye to his daughter. She just hugged him tightly for over a minute. "I'm going to miss you," he finally said.

"I'll miss you too, Father," she sighed.

"I've spent your entire life training you to be strong," he went on. "Now you have to learn to use that strength in new ways. I know you'll do well, and I really think you'll be happy."

"Father, thank you." She glanced at Hiccup. "For everything."

It was time. The Meatheads had to get their ship moving if they wanted to get home in the daylight two days from now. Everyone climbed aboard, Mogadon and Megadeth last of all. The ship pulled away from the pier under oar power, raised its sail, and drifted out of the harbor and away on the sea.

Thora stood at the end of the docks, watching as it grew smaller and smaller. Hiccup stood next to her, and after a few moments, wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"Can you imagine how it feels to watch everyone you've ever loved sailing away, probably forever?" she asked.

"Actually, I know exactly how it feels," he said quietly.

"You do?" she wondered.

He nodded slowly. "There was a day, not that long ago, when I stood on that platform up there, and watched my father and my whole village sail away without me, taking my best friend with them as a prisoner."

"Why did they do that?" she asked, amazed.

"I befriended Toothless, and my dad found out about it," he replied. "You must have a few people in your tribe who hate dragons with an unholy passion, right? That's how my dad was. Making friends with a Night Fury was the unforgivable sin to him. But yes, I know how you're feeling."

She wrapped her arm around his waist, and they stood together and watched until the ship was out of sight.

"Now it's just you and me," she whispered.

"I could get used to that," he nodded.

"You'd better," she agreed as they turned to walk back home.

Late that night, the Red Death visited him in his mind. He woke up screaming, looking around in a panic for something that wasn't there. She tried to calm him with words, but he was still half-asleep and completely incoherent. Finally, she just flung her arms around him and held him. He began calming down immediately, slowly lay down again, and passed back into quiet sleep in less than ten minutes. She continued to hold him until she fell asleep again herself. He remembered nothing when he awoke, but she remembered how he found peace with her touch. It was a powerful lesson.

The next day, Hiccup had to return to the forge. Their honeymoon still had three weeks to go, but the wedding celebration was over. It was time to return to real life. Gobber was glad to get his apprentice back; in his absence, the work had been piling up to the point where it was hard to get through the door. Hiccup didn't understand how a town that had done little but celebrate for a week and a day could have dulled and bent so many garden tools, fishing spears, and hunting knives. Master and apprentice worked side by side all day and barely made a dent in the backlog.

"So how's married life treatin' ye?" Gobber asked during a lull in the hammering.

"Well, my wife is sure treating me well," he answered. _My wife,_ he thought. _That sounds so weird_.

"Ahh, so it's workin' out fer the best, is it?" the smith chuckled. "Ye were worryin' and fussin' over nothin', were ye?"

"Gobber... sometimes when I'm walking with Thora, I look out of the corner of my eyes, and I can see Astrid, looking really hurt because I'm happy with another girl. I shake my head, and she disappears; I know she was never really there. One of these days, Thora is going to ask me why I shake my head so much when we're together. But... please don't say Astrid was nothing."

"My young friend," Gobber replied, "it sounds like yer young wife is workin' her way into a place in yer heart. The best thing ye can do for her, and for yerself, is to let her do it, an' enjoy the process. The sooner ye put yer girlfriend behind ye and give yer heart to yer wife, th' better off everyone will be."

"Gobber, are you qualified to give marriage advice?"

"Aye, though I'm not one fer talkin' about it much." The smith looked somber. "I was married, many years ago. She was young an' fair, an' I gave 'er my heart gladly. Barely a year after the weddin', she caught a fever an'... she dinna get better. I couldn't go through losin' someone like that again, so I never remarried.

"That meant I had time to watch all th' other folks gettin' married and workin' it out. I've seen good marriages turn bad, an' a few bad ones grow into good ones. I've seen couples who never learned to like each other, an' couples who wouldn't want to live without each other. I'm no expert, if ye mean hands-on experience, but I've seen an' heard plenty, and I've got a lot to say about it. Yer stuck in the forge fer the day and ye can't get away from me, so ye might as well listen.

"There are no perfect marriages, because there are no perfect people. No matter how sweet an' nice yer new wife might be, there are going to be times when ye'll not understand each other, an' ye'll fight, an' ye'll cry, an' ye'll feel like the end o' the world is upon ye, an' ye'll have to decide whether ye're better off with her or without her."

"What do I do then?" Hiccup asked.

"Ye bop 'er on the head with yer five-pound mallet," Gobber smiled. "Seriously, life can be hard, and marriage can help ye get through the hard times, but it can also make its own hard times. Some girls go insane fer one week out o' the month, an' others don't; no one knows why. Ye're goin' to disagree on the big things, an' yer goin' to fight like Berserkers over stuff that doesn't even matter. Then you'll wake up the next mornin', wonderin' why ye did it, an' how to make it right, an' who _is _this strange person yer sharin' a house an' a bed with?

"The only thing that'll get ye through those hard times is _commitment_. Ye've got to _completely _give yerself over to yer wife an' yer marriage, because if ye try to keep an escape route open in yer mind, ye won't make it when th' pressure is on. That's why it is so important that ye leave _all _thoughts of yer girlfriend behind. When things get tough with yer wife, ye don't want to start thinkin', 'Things might be better with Astrid' – I'm sure ye can guess what kinds of mischief _that _can lead to."

"That's great, Gobber, and I'm sure it's true, but how do I do it?"

"Give it time," the grizzled old smith smiled. "Enjoy yer wife; focus on all th' good things she's doin' fer ye. Keep tellin' yerself, 'She's my wife. She's the one.' If ye catch yerself thinkin' about the other one, chase those thoughts away. Then give it some more time. Ye're a sensible boy, fer the most part, an' I know yer heart will follow where yer head leads."

"Thanks, Gobber," Hiccup said quietly. "That's the first realistic answer I've gotten since this whole thing started. You've given me something to think about."

"Oh, _no!_" the smith exclaimed, clapping his hand to his forehead. "Th' _last _thing that fertile mind o' yours needs is more things to think about! Quick – start sharpenin' those throwin' axes before ye have another brainstorm!" They returned to their work with a vengeance.


	24. Chapter 24

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 24

When Hiccup came home that night, he was more tired than he'd been in a very long time. Maybe not as bone-tired as when he'd learned about his engagement – he'd been sleep-deprived for days after that – but pretty tired nonetheless. He closed the door, kicked off his boot, and collapsed sideways across the bed.

"Hi, honey, I'm home," he sighed.

She flopped down on the bed next to him and kissed his cheek. "You had a hard day at the office?"

He nodded and rested a hand on her waist. "It'll take us at least a week to clear out the backlog that built up during our reception party. Then we'll have to start on the ice picks and snow shovels the village is going to need – winter is coming on fast. Not to mention, Gothi wants a new spike for the end of her staff, and Gobber wants me to make it because she's so picky about things like that."

"He can't make it himself?" Thora was surprised.

"He could, but he doesn't have the patience for that kind of work anymore. He gets his frustrations out by banging on things with his hammer. Turning the metal down to a perfect cone, and then engraving Gothi's special runes on it... that's not his style anymore."

She smiled. "Speaking of style, I'm cooking supper for us tonight. I'm trying out an old family recipe, and I'm dying to know if it's _your _style."

She'd been halfway through making the fish sticks when she realized – if she followed the recipe exactly, he'd recognize it and suspect that she'd been in touch with the Hoffersons. She'd searched through the jars of spices that her mother had given her to get her kitchen started, and added a pinch of something to the batter. Hopefully, it would change the flavor a little, but not ruin it.

Hiccup sniffed. "That smells good. When will it be ready?"

"About five more minutes," she said as she poked the fish with a knife. Then she lay down next to him again.

"Your hair," he suddenly said. "It looks different."

"I'm wearing it pinned-up, now that I'm a married lady," she explained. "That's what Vikings do."

"It looked a lot prettier when it was loose around your shoulders," he said sadly .

"Single girls wear their hair loose," she replied. "Married women wear it pinned up. That's how it is in every Viking village you'll ever find. It's a mark of my position in society."

"I don't like it as much that way," he decided. "Couldn't you wear it loose, just to make me happy?"

"I don't like to go against tradition like that," she answered, with a shake of her head. "People will think I'm a rebel or something. I'm trying to make new friends here; I don't want people to think badly about me the first time they lay their eyes on me."

He looked away, and she could tell he wasn't happy with the idea. Were they about to have their first fight? She didn't want one, but she didn't want to go against ancient traditions, either.

Then she had an idea.

"I'll make you a deal," she said, with the beginnings of a smile. "If you agree to leave the dragon outside, then I'll agree to wear my hair loose for you, when it's just the two of us in the house."

He scowled. "That's not fair!"

"Sure it is," she said earnestly. "We both give a little, and we both get something we want. What's unfair about that?"

"Well, it's not fair to Toothless," he protested. "He's gone _everywhere_ with me! How do I explain to him that he isn't allowed in the house?"

"He's always been allowed in your _father's_ house, but I haven't seen him even try to get into _this _house, aside from that one morning when the door was ajar," she said. "It's a different house with different rules; he seems to understand that already." She laid a hand on his shoulder. "If it's bitterly cold out, and his life or his health are in danger, we'll make a special deal. But I'm going to start decorating our house soon, to make it look nice, and I can just imagine what a dragon's tail would do to all my decorations."

Then, just to see what would happen, she did something she hadn't thought she would ever, _ever _do. She batted her eyes at him. "Please, Hiccup?"

He seemed torn. "I'll think about it. Is supper ready yet?"

She knew a stalling tactic when she heard one. But the fish was, indeed, cooked just right. She served him, then herself, sat down next to him, and held her breath as he took his first bite.

"Mmmm! This is _good!_" he exclaimed, and tore into his meal with gusto. She relaxed and began eating. He was right; her first try at this recipe had turned out well.

"You like it?" she asked, even though the answer was obvious. She wanted to hear him say it.

"I love it!" he nodded. "I've had it before, and this doesn't taste quite the way I remember it, but it's very, very good. You said this is an old family recipe?"

"Yes," she said, without saying _whose _family it came from. "It's an easy meal. If you like it, I could make it once a week for you."

"I'd like that!" he nodded. "Is there more?"

"I made a double portion for you," she said, and refilled his plate. "I had a funny feeling you'd want more."

He paused for a second and smiled at her. "You're taking awfully good care of me." Then he returned to devouring his supper.

She had a sudden wild idea. She'd never seen him eat that much before. If she could find a few more recipes that he liked, and consistently fed him food that he'd devour, maybe he'd put on some weight and look a bit more like a classic Viking male! Of course, that wouldn't change who he really was, and that was all that mattered, but it was worth thinking about.

As they stacked their plates afterwards, he took both her hands in his. "You've got a deal," he said.

"You mean about the fish sticks every week?" she asked.

"Besides that," he said. "I meant, about Toothless and your hair."

"Really? What made you change your mind?"

He shrugged. "I figure you won't let him in the house no matter what I say, so I might as well get _something _out of the situation."

She leaned over and kissed him, and tried not to giggle. _Edda was right! I do have_ _some control, and it is kind of fun._ Then she reached up and removed the pins from her hair, and let it fall to her shoulders.

"That's much better," he said with an approving nod. "_Much _better." He reached out and gently ran his fingers through her hair. It felt nice; she closed her eyes and enjoyed his touch.

_I think I won both sides of this compromise,_ she thought. _Of course, I don't have to tell him that._


	25. Chapter 25

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 25

Two days later, the backlog in the forge had been reduced to manageable levels. Gobber suggested that Hiccup take the afternoon off.

"Gobber, are you feeling okay?" Hiccup wondered. "You've _never _offered me time off before!"

"I'm lookin' at it this way," the smith began. "Ye're young and newly married, an' ye need a little guidance here an' there to keep ye from wanderin' off the path. Yer father isn't the best one fer givin' advice to a young man; we both know that. Ye used to visit the butcher fer the man-to-man stuff, but I know Astrid's father is the _last _man ye're wantin' to see now. That leaves _me _to guide ye. So here's my advice fer the day: go spend some time with yer fair lady. I'll be fine fer a few hours, an' the extra time with yer wife will do the both of ye good."

"Okay. Thanks, Gobber!" Hiccup wiggled out of his heavy apron, put his tools back in their places, and speed-walked home.

Thora had been picking herbs and hanging them to dry; she was delighted at this unexpected change in their routine. "But what should we do with our afternoon?" she asked.

"How about a ride on Toothless?" he suggested. "Straight and level?"

She thought for half a second. "Okay," she nodded. Toothless, of course, was completely in favor of the idea. Rigging and saddling him went a lot faster with two of them doing it; they were soon gliding though the sky. Toothless tried some small-scale dips and swoops now and then, and Thora didn't seem to mind them.

"You really love flying, don't you?" she asked.

"To me, this is freedom and power," Hiccup answered after a moment. "Up here on Toothless, it doesn't matter if I'm thin and weak, or if I have a missing leg, or if I'm no good with a sword. Once we're off the ground, my only limits are what Toothless can do, and I don't think he _has _any limits. We can do anything together."

In the distance, they noticed another dragon playing peek-a-boo in and out of the clouds. Without being told, Toothless changed his course to check out the other dragon. From a distance, it looked like a Zippleback; up close, it was obviously Barf and Belch, with Ruffnut and Tuffnut on board, flying lazily in search of something fun to do.

"Hi, twins!" Thora called.

"Hi, married people!" Tuff called back.

"You guys need to get a Zippleback so you can really ride together!" Ruff added.

"Thanks, but Toothless is enough dragon for both of us," Hiccup answered. He whispered to Thora, "Hold on tight!" just before he tapped Toothless' flanks with his heels. The dragon shot forward at full speed; they left the Zippleback behind as though it was standing still. The turbulence from his slipstream hit both twins and both dragon heads in the face. The big dragon blinked and shook its heads in irritation. Ruff and Tuff just stared at each other and said, "Wow."

A mile ahead of them, Toothless finally slowed down. He looked back to Hiccup for approval, and he got it. "That was _great,_ bud! You left them in the dust, except there isn't any dust up here."

Thora was still clinging to him tightly. His body had shielded her from the worst of the windy blast, but she still felt very windblown and disheveled. "You said we were flying straight and level!" she protested.

"That _was_ straight and level," Hiccup grinned. "I didn't say anything about fast or slow. Was it that bad?"

She shook her head and relaxed her grip slightly. "I'll never get used to these huge beasts."

"It took Berk a while to adjust to them," he nodded sympathetically. "Is it their size that bothers you?"

"Their size, I don't like heights, I've seen too many people hurt by dragons over the years... it's a lot of things," she answered. "Toothless is different; I know he'd never hurt me. But he's still a dragon."

They flew on in silence for another minute. Then she went on. "I _want _to get used to dragons for your sake, because I'm learning how much Toothless means to you. But it's more than that. I want to fit into my new town, and my new town likes dragons. I'll always feel like an outsider if I can't find some way to get along with them."

"How about if I helped you train a dragon of your own?" Hiccup asked. "I can do that, you know."

"I'm sure you can, but I'm not ready for that," she answered quickly. "Besides, one dragon per household is enough for me. Can you imagine if _two _of them were stomping on the roof in the morning?"

"Good point," he agreed with a chuckle.

The rest of their flight passed uneventfully. Once they landed and Toothless was unrigged, they headed for the Mead Hall for supper. Tonight's dish was a meat pie, the latest in their cooks' experiments with the sudden bounty they were receiving from the Meatheads. The people of Berk weren't accustomed to meat pie. Most of them thought it was pretty good, but to Thora, who had grown up eating meat prepared by Meatheads, it was bland to the point of being insipid.

As they were leaving afterwards, she turned back and asked the head cook if they had any leftover meat scraps. She wanted to make Hiccup a _real _meat pie!

"I think we've got a few," the cook answered. "We don't usually have leftovers; once the vermin are done stealing from us, we barely have enough for everyone to get one serving. But the Meatheads sent us more than we expected this trip." She wrapped the scraps in cloth and dropped the cloth in a bucket. "We need our bucket back."

"You'll get it back tomorrow," Thora promised.

The next day, after Hiccup left for the forge, she set to work. She had to make dough and roll it into a crust, she had to chop and season the meat, and then she had to put the pie together and bake it. It was quite a project, but at last it was done, and she set it on the edge of the house's one window to cool.

About twenty minutes later, as she was sorting and grinding her dried herbs, she heard something at the window. A green Terrible Terror was eating her meat pie! Furious, she grabbed the pie away from the little dragon. "Get your own food, you useless scavenger!" she shouted.

As she turned, she heard a hissing sound. Everyone in the Northland knew that sound, all too well. She quickly grabbed a pot lid and held it up in front of herself like a shield, just in time to block a burst of flame from the Terror's mouth. She looked for something to throw at the creature, but there was nothing handy that she was willing to lose. She settled for shouting at the thing. It quailed, but refused to budge. They glared at each other for a few seconds.

"You're not getting my pie, so you might as well leave," she muttered. The little dragon just looked at her. She turned away to see if the pie could be salvaged. The Terror had eaten only a small section of it, so she cut that part away; the rest was still fit for her husband's consumption.

She heard a scratching sound. The Terror was still sitting on the windowsill, looking hungrily at the pie. "Forget it! Get lost! Go bother somebody else!" she snapped. It didn't move. "What is it going to take to get rid of you?" She need not have asked; she already knew the answer.

She pulled a scrap of meat out of the partly-eaten portion and tossed it to the tiny dragon. It caught the scrap in mid-air, swallowed it whole, and licked its lips.

"You want more?" It cocked its head and trilled at her. "Well, okay, but I'm going to civilize you first." She picked up another scrap and held it out. The Terror opened its mouth, but she didn't drop the morsel. Instead, she slowly lifted it higher. The dragon watched it, then rose on its hind legs, balancing with its tail, trying to keep its mouth close to the meat. Once she got it standing fully erect, she paused for a second, then dropped the scrap, which disappeared down the Terror's gullet.

"That's called 'begging for food'," she told the little dragon, "and it's a lot nicer than stealing. Well, it looks cuter. Now go find something Terrible to do." She returned to her herbs, expecting to hear the dragon fly away. She heard nothing. It was still on the windowsill. As she watched, it trilled and rose into the begging position again.

"You're a fast learner," she commented. She tossed it another scrap of meat. That seemed to satisfy it at last; it turned and flapped away. She shut the window and tried to get back into her routine.

That night, as Hiccup devoured his pie and repeatedly told her how much better it was than the pie at the Mead Hall, she described her encounter with the little green dragon.

"You _do _know that Terrors live in flocks, right?" he asked between bites.

"Yes, I _do _know _that _much about them." Was he trying to be insulting? _Everybody_ knew that!

"So if you fed one today, you know you'll probably have two or three of them tomorrow, seven or eight the next day, and dozens of them before the week is over?" he said, talking with his mouth full.

"Oh. I hadn't thought of that."

"You've got two choices, Thora. Either you find a way to get rid of them, or you find a way to feed them all. I can't help you with the first one; nobody knows how to make the little pests go away."

"If I try to feed a flock of Terrors, there won't be anything left for you or me!"

Hiccup nodded. "If you really want to feed them, here's what I'd do. I'd go down to the docks in the morning, just after the fishing boats get in; give them time to unload most of their catch. Then approach one of the captains and ask him for some baitfish – the little fish that get stuck in the nets but aren't good for much. Bring some copper coins with you to pay him, and bring a bucket or two to carry the fish."

"Hmmm," she thought out loud. "I don't think we have any buckets."

"What's wrong with that one?" He pointed to a bucket in the food-preparation area.

"That belongs to the Mead Hall; I have to take it back to them," she explained.

"Okay." He opened his top dresser drawer and pulled out a small leather bag that clinked. "Take this money to Codsmack, the cooper. Buy a couple of buckets from him. His asking price will be fair because you're the chief's daughter-in-law, so don't haggle. He'll try to sell you his leaky merchandise if you let him, so make a point of asking for the good stuff. We probably should have a bucket or two around here anyway, in case it rains and the roof leaks, so even if this project of yours doesn't work out, the money won't be wasted.

"And now that we've settled that, I'd like to finish this delicious pie before it gets cold." He proceeded to do so, with much licking of fingers and smacking of lips. She reveled in every sound effect, because they meant he was thinking nice thoughts about her.

The next morning, she took his advice about the buckets and the baitfish. The fishing-boat captain wondered why she wanted them, and when she explained, he told her bluntly, "You're crazy!" But he sold her half a bucketful of small fish for a copper.

Later that morning, she heard the flutter of wings at the window. There were two Terrors there, the green one and a yellow one. She reached into her bucket and pulled out two fish. "Beg," she told the green one. When it didn't respond, she lifted one of the fish higher. The green quickly rose on two legs and opened its mouth. She dropped the fish, and – _snap!_ – it was gone.

The yellow one watched. When she raised the other fish, it rose into the begging position immediately. It, too, snapped up the fish when she dropped it.

"Well! It didn't take _you _long to get the idea," she nodded, and bent to pick up some more fish. Each Terror ate four of them, then turned and flew away.

The next morning, there were five Terrors, which was far too many to perch on one windowsill. They were starting to fight, which would have been a disaster – dragons indiscriminately flaming each other next to a wooden house! She took her bucket of fish outside. The five Terrors landed in front of her eagerly. The two from yesterday assumed the begging position without being prompted. When the three new arrivals saw how the first two were rewarded, they also learned how to beg.

The day after that, there were eleven of them, and they all learned to beg for their fish like the first ones did. As she was dropping and tossing little fish to them, Stoick stopped by. He was looking for Hiccup, who had been excused from the forge to run an errand for Gobber.

"Hiccup isn't here, sir," she said respectfully. "I haven't seen him since he left for work this morning." She tossed out some more fish to her waiting flock.

"You're feeding Terrible Terrors?" Stoick was shocked. "Those little thieves will eat you out of house and home! You'll be sorry you attracted them to your house."

"I'm teaching them to leave my meat pies alone," she explained.

"Good luck," he grimaced, and stalked away.

That night, at the Mead Hall, the chief asked his son if he knew his wife was attracting scavengers to his back yard.

"It makes her happy, and I can't see any harm coming from it," he replied.

"I can't see anything good coming from it," Stoick growled.

"Well, Dad, she's my wife, and it's my house, so I guess it's my decision," he said hesitantly. "I say, let her be."

"If your neighbors complain, I'll have to take action," Stoick warned.

"If that happens, we'll work it out ourselves," Hiccup replied, with a little more conviction. The chief grunted and returned to his feast.

"Thank you for standing up for me," Thora whispered, and gave him a quick side-hug. He smiled and took another bite of his chicken. He suspected she'd show him even more appreciation later that night, and he was right.

Before two more days had passed, nearly every Terrible Terror in Berk was visiting Hiccup and Thora's house in the late morning. There were never less than thirty of them, and sometimes almost forty. All of them were hungry, and all of them were quick learners. She began teaching them other tricks, like "roll over" and "turn in a circle," using hand signals to show them what she wanted. She also taught them to come when she let out a piercing whistle. She focused on a few of the leaders, including her original green, which she called Pierate. Once those dragons understood what she wanted, they obeyed readily, and all the others learned by imitating the leaders. She was emptying two full buckets of baitfish a day, and spending an hour or more fetching the fish and feeding them to the dragons. Her neighbors were calling her "The Crazy Terror Lady" behind her back.

Still, it felt good to her. She was accomplishing something. Whether that "something" had any value didn't matter. She could leave food on the windowsill to cool now, and the little dragons didn't touch it.

A few nights later at the Hall, when Hiccup took his and Thora's plates to the kitchen to be washed, the cook asked him if he wanted seconds.

"Seconds?" Hiccup echoed, surprised. "We _never _have enough food for seconds."

"We never used to," the cook agreed, "but the Terrible Terrors have stopped stealing the chow for some reason, so there's more left for hungry Vikings."

"Really? That's interesting." Hiccup declined the extra food, so the cook stood in the doorway to the kitchen and announced, "If anyone wants seconds, we have a few extra platters ready to go!"

As Vikings rose all over the Hall and headed for the kitchen doorway, Hiccup stood up on his bench. "I have an announcement, too! The reason we have seconds is because my wife has taught the Terrible Terrors to stop stealing our food, so there's more for us!" Cheers and applause broke out. He sat down again.

"Did you _have _to say that?" she demanded, glaring at him.

"Yes, I did," he answered, "because you deserve it. Aren't you the one who wanted to do something with dragons so you'd fit in around here?" She nodded, surprised. "Well, that's exactly what you've done; you just did it with smaller dragons than the rest of us. It's only fair that you get the credit for it."

"But I didn't train them to stop stealing!" she argued.

"You trained them to come to our house to eat," he replied, "and once their bellies are full, they aren't interested in food for the rest of the day. Maybe you didn't realize all the implications of what you were doing, but you still did a good thing."

His thoughts were echoed by over a dozen Vikings, platters in hand, who patted her on the shoulder and thanked her for her work. The last one was one of the fishing-boat captains.

"You can have all the baitfish you want from my boat, any time you want them," he said. "No charge. If it means I can eat my fill for a change, it's worth it." He turned to Hiccup. "You've got yourself a fine wife, young man. Clever, pretty, a hard worker... definitely a fine wife." He walked back to his table.

"I already knew that," Hiccup whispered to her. Judging by her expression, that meant more to her than all the other Vikings' praises put together.


	26. Chapter 26

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 26

Astrid had given up trying to hide. It wasn't working anyway.

Hiccup and his new wife had become a common sight in town. The gossip suggested that they liked each other, and that they were adjusting well to married life. Astrid was glad for his sake.

But whenever she saw him, whether he was holding hands with his wife or whether he was by himself, she felt that axe strike her in the heart again. He would always say something that brought back old memories and feelings, like "Hi" or "Good morning." She would try to answer, but her voice almost always failed – it was that Astriccup moment, back with a vengeance – and she had to settle for just nodding to him.

Her parents consoled her as best they could. They had no advice to give her – their culture and experience had no answers for a girl in her position. Falling in love was something you were supposed to do _after _you got married. Getting over someone was something you did after a funeral.

Hiccup had almost forgotten about the Dragon Training Academy, so she threw herself into dragon work. She was soon considered the de facto leader of the group, in the absence of its founder. People from all over Berk came to the Academy with questions about their dragons, and she was the one they had the most confidence in. She wasn't as tactful as Hiccup at reining in Snotlout's rampaging ego, or keeping the twins in line, but somehow she kept everyone moving in the same direction. It felt good to accomplish something and make a difference in people's lives.

Snotlout was a particular thorn in her side. Now that Hiccup was married, Lout assumed that he was next in line for Astrid's affections, and he spared no effort to make that clear to her. She would have much preferred to be courted by an octopus, and _she _spared no effort to make that clear to _him,_ but he refused to get the message.

Matters came to a head when he tried to steal a kiss as she walked home after supper one night. She hit him in the jaw, then doubled him over with a blow to the stomach, and kept walking. But she knew she'd only slowed him down.

About half an hour later, Spitelout answered a knock at his door. "Snotlout!" he called. "There's someone here to see you!" The boy came bounding up the steps from his basement room; obviously it would be Astrid, who owed him an apology.

Instead, he found Gunnarr Hofferson, wearing an apron stained with gore from a busy day at the butcher shop, carrying his meat cleaver in one hand and a sharpening stone in the other. "I want you to stay away from my daughter," he growled slowly. "Do I make myself clear, young man?" He drew the sharpener across the cleaver with a ghastly grinding sound.

Snotlout went pale; his knees actually knocked together. "Y-y-yes, sir," he stammered.

"Good," Gunnarr smiled. "I've shed enough blood for one day." He turned and left without another word. Except for meals and Academy business, Snotlout didn't venture within fifty feet of Astrid for months after that.

About a week after that episode, she went flying on a late afternoon when common sense should have grounded her. It was dark and windy; it would surely start snowing at any moment. But what was the use of having a dragon named Stormfly if you couldn't go flying in a storm now and then?

The Nadder was loving the strong winds; she soared, banked, and climbed with pure joy. Astrid lay flat against the blue neck, squinted against the wind, and thrilled at the ride her dragon was giving her. Then Stormfly squawked and dove for the sea. She'd seen something. Astrid strained her eyes, which were watering from the wind that was blasting in her face. Something was down there, an irregular shape that she didn't recognize...

It was a small ship, probably a fishing boat, rolled over and slowly sinking. Five men clung to the bottom of its slippery hull, in danger of being swept away by every wave.

"Stormfly, rescue!" she shouted. The dragon swooped down, legs extended, and pulled one man up to safety. "Hey!" "What about us?" the others shouted desperately.

"My dragon can pick up only one man at a time!" she shouted back. "But I'll get help! Hang on!" She wheeled her dragon around and headed for home.

She needed a place where an exhausted, freezing-cold sailor could find warmth and safety, and she needed some more dragons and riders. The first house she saw would meet both those needs, unfortunately. It was Hiccup and Thora's house. "That's just my luck," she cursed out loud. "Stormfly, land!"

The dragon set her human cargo down, then landed. Astrid helped the man stand and led him to the door, which she hammered on. _Please, please, please, let it_ _be Hiccup who answers the door,_ she mentally begged. Thora opened the door. They stared at each other in shocked silence for a second.

"I'm sorry to interrupt whatever I'm interrupting," Astrid blurted out, speaking quickly, "but I just rescued this sailor from a sinking ship, and he needs warmth and care. Is Hiccup here? There are four more men out there, and we need another dragon rider."

"I'm here," she heard Hiccup call. She heard the sounds of him putting his boot on; then he ran to meet her at the door. "Where is this ship?"

"Straight into the wind, about four miles off shore," she answered. "The ship has rolled over; they don't have much time."

Hiccup took charge. Hearing him snap out commands in his old familiar Dragon-Academy way gave Astrid a long-lost sense of peace, even in the middle of this emergency. "Astrid, go back and save another sailor. Thora, help me saddle Toothless, then take care of this man. We'll be ready to fly by the time she gets back with the second sailor."

"There will still be three men out there, and only two dragons!" Astrid argued.

"We'll take care of it, Astrid," Hiccup said urgently. "Go!" She leaped into her dragon's saddle, and he whistled for Toothless as Stormfly took off and Thora pulled the flying gear out of its storage box.

True to his word, Toothless was saddled and ready when Astrid and Stormfly returned. They deposited another shivering but grateful sailor in Hiccup's front yard. "Thora, I'm sorry, but I'll have to leave you here," Hiccup said apologetically. "Toothless will need all his strength for carrying sailors."

"I understand," she nodded, and kissed him on the cheek. "That's for good luck. Now get going before it's too late! I'll take care of the sailors!" The Nadder and the Night Fury took flight. It was beginning to snow.

In the fading light, it was hard to find the low, dark shape of the capsized hull. They had to trust their dragons' superior night vision. Fortunately, as Berk's most experienced dragon riders, they were very much used to putting all their confidence in their fire-breathing friends. It took a few minutes longer to find them than with Astrid's first two rescues.

"What's your plan, Hiccup?" she shouted.

"Just save one sailor, like before," he called back. "Toothless will do the rest." The two dragons glided downward, and each one plucked a sailor off the sinking ship. One man was left.

"Fly straight and level," Hiccup shouted over the rising wind. Astrid passed on the command to her dragon. Stormfly extended her wings straight out and glided as though she were on rails. Toothless flew up behind her, slowly overtook her, and gently dropped his rescued sailor on her back, right behind Astrid.

"Now you've got two!" Hiccup called. "Get them home – we'll get the last one!" She waved and turned for Berk as the black dragon swooped down to rescue the fifth man.

He got back to his house about a minute after Astrid had landed. Over a dozen men and women were waiting with blankets and steaming mugs of something good to drink; the chief was among them. Evidently, Thora had called for help while she was getting the first two sailors comfortable. Stoick took charge, and got all the men back to their homes and their wives. They would be fine in a few hours.

Astrid was the hero of the village, because she'd initiated the rescue and brought back four of the five shipwrecked sailors. She accepted the people's applause modestly, but with quiet pleasure. She'd been hiding from life for weeks; now she was back, and she'd returned in style. Hiccup kept a low profile and let her have her day in the sun.

Three days later, Astrid paid the forge a visit. Her axe head was cracking around the handle from much use, and needed a smith's attention. "Aye, we can fix that in a jiffy," Gobber nodded. "I'll put Hiccup on it right away."

"Gobber... would it be possible for..." She broke off, embarrassed that she'd even tried to ask the question.

"Are ye _not _wantin' my apprentice to do th' repairs?" he asked.

She nodded.

Gobber shook his head. "I'm thinkin' he needs some practice on a fine weapon, an' I'm thinkin' a few other things as well." He called toward the back of the forge. "Hiccup! Get yer lazy carcass out o' that back room an' get back to work! Ye've got a customer!"

Hiccup stumbled into view, blinking as his eyes adjusted from the darkness of his room to the brighter light of the forge. He blinked extra-hard when he realized who his customer was.

Wordlessly, she handed him the axe and pointed to the cracks. He nodded and set to work. She stood aside and watched.

"That was some rescue you two pulled off th' other day," Gobber said offhandedly. They both nodded.

"That's the kind o' stuff you two used to do all the time," he went on. They nodded with less enthusiasm.

"It's good to see that ye can still be a fine team when ye have to be." Hiccup froze in the middle of a swing, and Astrid turned for the door.

"No, ye don't! Both of ye, _look _at me!" he ordered. She turned back, and he set the axe down. They stared at him as a way of not looking at each other.

"Now, listen," he commanded. "I might be missin' me arm, me leg, and me hair, but me heart is still alive an' well in here. I was in love once, and I can make some fair guesses at how ye're feelin'.

"The fact is, ye _still _make a fine team. Nobody but you, Hiccup, could have come up with that plan on the spur o' the moment, and nobody but you, Astrid, could have controlled yer dragon well enough to make it work. I know ye wanted to be a team all the time, fer life, but we all know that isn't going to happen.

"Now, ye can be whiny little teens an' wallow in yer sorrows, or ye can grow up an' face the facts. Not just the facts that make ye sad, but _all _of 'em! Now, how are ye gonna handle this?" He folded his arms (including the one with the wrench attachment) and glared down at them.

Hiccup slowly turned. "Astrid... when we took off together the other day to save those sailors, I thought, 'It's just like old times,' and then I felt guilty for thinking it. I've been... I've been afraid that, if I spent any time around you, old feelings would come up and smother the new ones that belong to my wife. I haven't been fair to you. We had... I mean we _have _an amazing friendship; we work together like two gears in a well-oiled machine. We understand each other; I don't have to explain everything I'm thinking, because either you already know, or you trust me. That's precious, and I don't want to lose that.

"I know you've got a harder road to walk than I do, because you have to walk your road alone. But when you're ready... I still want to be friends."

"I am not going to cry," she whimpered, and blinked hard several times. It took her a minute to find her voice again.

"When I had to give you up, I thought that meant losing _all _of you. When we flew together the other day, it was so natural, and I felt so happy because it was so easy to work with you again, like nothing had ever happened... and then I felt like I was doing something _wrong _by working with you to save five men! How crazy is that?

"Hiccup, I'm not ready yet. I don't know when I _will _be ready. It still hurts too much. But when it doesn't, I'll tell you. I want to still be friends too. I _need _to."

Hiccup swallowed hard. "I should finish fixing your axe," he eventually said, with a lump in his throat. She nodded. It took him a little over half an hour, during which neither of them said nothing until he handed the finished weapon to her and said, "That ought to do the job."

"Thank you, Hiccup," she said, and left.

Hiccup turned to face Gobber. "Was that really necessary?" he demanded.

"You tell me," the smith growled back. Hiccup thought about it and silently went back to his work.

The next day, a ship arrived from the Meatheads' island. That was unusual; the trading ship wasn't due for a week. What was really unusual was the ship's one passenger: Mogadon. He had business with someone in Berk, and it wasn't Thora. She didn't even know he was there until after he'd left, which was later that day. Hiccup wouldn't have known, either, if his father hadn't come and told him about it. When he got the news, he left the forge at a run, to find Astrid.

He found her stepping out of her house, looking pale and shaken. Her parents were standing in the doorway, watching her; he couldn't read their expressions. _Her _expression was easy enough to read – she'd looked that way on the docks when he told her he was engaged to Thora. "Astrid?" he asked. She didn't respond. He grabbed her shoulders; she slowly looked up at him.

"I just found out I'm engaged," she said in a hollow, dead-flat voice. "I'm going to have to marry something called a Thuggory."


	27. Chapter 27

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 27

It was a strain for Hiccup to understand how Astrid was feeling. That was astonishing, when he thought about it.

He could vividly recall his own horror when he learned about his engagement, with all its implications for him and Astrid. Even if he hadn't already been in a relationship, the idea of marrying a total stranger had seemed like the end of the world.

It had been about two and a half months since the wedding, and his feelings on the subject had changed, just like his feelings for Thora had changed. His total-stranger wife had turned out to be the friend, helper, and lover that every Viking man dreamed of. He still thought it was cruel to stun someone with the old "Congratulations, you're engaged" line out of the blue, but he had to admit – once you got past the shock, the system really did work. Of course, not every girl was as nice and sensible as Thora was. But people were people; they could learn to get along if they wanted to.

Now Astrid was facing that same horror. He desperately wanted to help her deal with it. How?

"Did you meet him while he was on Berk?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I didn't meet any of those Meatheads. I stayed away from the whole wedding thing, remember?"

He started to say something, but she cut him off. "Hiccup, don't you _dare _try to tell me what a nice guy he is, and how happy he'll make me, and how lucky I am to be marrying that son of a... chief! My life is _over!_ First they took _you_ away from me, and now they're sticking me with some half-tamed barbarian whose knuckles probably drag on the ground when he walks! It's _over!_" She turned and ran.

"Astrid, please wait." He didn't shout, and that was probably the reason she stopped. She'd expected him to shout; that's what people did in situations like this, right? They'd try to bellow their way past her defenses, and bring her up short by sheer sound levels, right? But Hiccup said it softly. It was such a Hiccup thing to do, she stopped after a few steps and stood there. He'd departed from the script that most people followed in these situations, and now she had no idea what she was supposed to do next.

He walked over to her and laid his hands on her shoulder pads again. She looked at the ground. "Astrid, have you talked to your mother about this?"

"My mother helped _arrange _this! What could she possibly say that could help?"

"Your mother is the most sensible lady you or I will ever meet; you know that. Give her a chance, Astrid. Sit with her. Talk to her. Listen to her. If things are as bad as you say, then she can't make it worse, so you've got nothing to lose, right?" She didn't respond. "_Right?_" She nodded, just barely.

Hiccup turned back toward her parents, who hadn't moved. "Sir, if you have time, I've got some questions about being a husband that I need to talk about with somebody." Gunnarr took the hint and nodded, and they walked off toward the empty butcher shop together. That left Edda standing in the doorway, and Astrid with her back turned, about forty feet away.

Slowly, very reluctantly, Astrid turned and slouched back to her house. Her mother held the door open and stepped aside. Neither of them said a word until Astrid had flopped down onto her bench by the cooking fire and rested her chin in her hands.

"I know this sounds old and trite," Edda began, "but I actually _do_ know how you feel."

"Mama, that was _years_ ago!" her daughter burst out. "It's not the same!"

"Oh, really? What's changed?" her mother challenged her. "Are boys different now? Are girls different? Have they changed the wedding ceremony? The only thing that's changed is that now, I can look back and say, 'I'm glad I got the man I did'."

"Mama, tell me something, and be honest," Astrid demanded. Her mother nodded. "Did Dad sell me to the Meatheads for a chief's bride-price?"

For a moment, Edda looked angry. "Your father did not _sell _you for _any _price, young lady! Don't you know us better than that?"

"Then why Thuggory?"

Edda relaxed, very slightly. "The reason is that we're trying to do the best we can for you. You have to marry somebody; we aren't rich enough to keep you around the house forever. You don't cook well, you aren't great at mending or other chores... your biggest contribution to the household is when raiders come through.

"That's exactly the kind of girl Thuggory is looking for, according to his father. He doesn't want a docile little doormat who will darn his socks, and kiss his boots when he walks through the door... and that's a good thing, because you'll never be that girl. If you don't pay more attention while I'm trying to teach you what a wife needs to know, Thuggory may have to hire someone to do his cooking and mending. Fortunately, he can afford to do that.

"You're a fighter, and in case you haven't noticed, the Meatheads are fighters and they appreciate fighters. He'll appreciate you. I know you're sick of hearing this, Astrid, but we want you to be happy, and we both think this match will make you happy in the long run."

"The money had nothing to do with it?" Astrid persisted.

"The money _did _have something to do with it," Edda nodded, "but it wasn't about the money _we'll _be getting. It's about the fact that you'll be well-off and comfortable for life.

"We've never had to teach you what hunger means. The only reason for that is because your father is a butcher, and he can bring home his mistakes and his leftovers. You used to love it when I'd say, 'We're having mis-steak for supper!' " Astrid smiled at the memory, in spite of herself. "If you marry a chief, you'll be even further from hunger. Not only that, but you'll never have to wear clothes that don't fit anymore, because we can't afford new ones, and you'll never have to scrimp and save to buy a new axe handle when the old one breaks. I really can't imagine anyone who might be better for you than this Thuggory."

"I can," Astrid said, very very quietly.

Now Edda's eyes flashed genuine anger. "Astrid Hofferson Gunnardottir, are you still setting your heart on a married man?!"

"My heart doesn't take orders very well," Astrid replied, trying not to make the confrontation angrier, but not willing to admit she was wrong.

"It had better learn, and the rest of you had better learn, too! I don't expect you to thank us at this point, but if you bring _any _shame to this house with your romantic notions and your stubbornness..."

"I have _never _shamed this house!" Astrid shot back. "I've always done what you told me to do, and I always _will _do what you tell me to do... as long as you don't give me an order I can't obey. Don't order me to be happy with this arrangement."

"When the time comes, we will order you to _act _like you're happy with this arrangement," her mother growled, "and you had better do as you're told."

Astrid got up from her bench. "Mama, I can't talk to you when you're angry."

"If you think I'm angry now, then try doing to your husband what Thora did to Hiccup on their first night!" her mother shot back. "You have not _begun _to see me angry!"

Astrid turned and left in dismay. Life had dealt her yet another crashing blow; she had to talk it out with someone! If her own mother had turned against her, where else could she turn? She wandered the streets aimlessly until suppertime, then ate with the other teens as a way to avoid her parents. They started to offer some amusing comments on her situation, but they backed off when they saw the fire in her eyes. It was a quiet, awkward meal, but probably less awkward than eating with her father and mother would have been.

Hiccup met her at the door of the Hall as she was leaving. "Hey," he said.

"Hi," she replied joylessly.

"Remember yesterday when Gobber practically knocked our heads together in the forge, to make us be honest with each other?" She nodded, trying not to look at him.

"Was it painful?" he asked.

"A little," she said quietly.

"Was it worth it?" he continued. She nodded again.

"I think so, too," he said with a trace of a smile. "That's why we're going to do something similar. You're invited back to my house for the evening. You and Thora need to talk."

Astrid's mouth opened and closed twice without making a sound. She finally forced herself to say, "Have... you... lost... your... _mind?_"

"You need to talk to someone who knows what you're going through and how you're feeling. Who else in Berk knows better than her?" She had no argument against that.

"I've talked to her about it, and she's a little uncomfortable, but she agrees it could be worth doing. I can't force you, Astrid, but if you think about it, you'll probably agree, it can't make things worse and it might make things better."

"Just like talking to my mother made things better?"

"Astrid, you have to _talk_ to somebody! You could throw your axe for the rest of the day, and it wouldn't make you feel any better about a situation like this. I know you well enough to be sure about that."

"Are you going to sit there and watch us be uncomfortable with each other?" she asked.

"No, I'll be in the forge, doing some long-overdue cleaning and organizing," he answered. "I wouldn't dream of eavesdropping on girl-talk."

"I... I just don't know," she said.

"You have some time to think it over," he answered. "I'll be in the forge for a few hours. If you want to drop by the house, just do it. She's expecting you. If you don't... none of us will have lost anything."

"I do need to think it over," she nodded. "But thank you for thinking of me, Hiccup." She stood in the doorway and watched him limp away toward the forge. Evidently, his leg was bothering him tonight. And in spite of his pain, he was thinking of ways to make things better for _her_... she shook her head to chase away any ideas that might flow out of _that_ thought. She went for a walk in the gathering darkness.

How could it _possibly_ be good for her to sit down and talk to the woman who had married the man she loved?

Well, they weren't exactly rivals. Neither of them had had any say in the matter. There had been no competition between them. Hiccup wasn't a prize that one of them had taken from the other.

She couldn't do this. It would accomplish nothing except put her name in the record books for Most Awkward Scene Ever.

She had to do this. Hiccup was trying very hard to do something kind for her; she couldn't reject his offer.

What was the worst thing that could happen? She and Thora could come to blows, and Hiccup would hate her for beating up his wife.

What was the best thing that could happen? She might learn to be happy, like Thora had somehow learned to be happy.

Being happy with Hiccup was easy. How could she be happy with Thuggory? She didn't even know him!

Thora hadn't known Hiccup until they met at the altar. Somehow, she'd adjusted. If she was willing to talk about how she did it, that could be worth more than all her mother's well-intentioned platitudes put together.

Astrid had meant to wander aimlessly like she'd done before supper, but by the time she ran out of thoughts worth thinking, she'd somehow wound up at Hiccup's front door. Was it fate? Destiny? Random luck? There was only one way to find out.

Thora answered the door almost immediately. They presented quite a contrast to each other – Thora, plump and kind of cute, with her house-dress and her hair pinned up; Astrid, slender and beautiful, with her armor and her long, thick braid in the back. Thora had a husband and a house; Astrid had an axe and a dragon. Thora was happy; Astrid wasn't.

"Please come in," Thora said after a moment, and led Astrid into the living area. They sat on opposite sides of the fire pit, and stared at the fire for a minute or so.

_This is stupid,_ Astrid decided. _Somebody needs to say something_.

"You're obviously making him happy," she said.

"That wasn't my original plan," Thora nodded, "but I like the new plan better."

"What was your old plan?"

"I meant to use him," the other girl said. "He was going to be my stepping-stone to greatness and power. But I knew he wouldn't go along with that for long unless I made him happy, and once I tried it, I found out that making him happy was worth doing for its own sake. The next thing I knew, that's all I wanted to do. Right now, I wouldn't care if he never became the chief. We're both happy, right where we are."

"What's your secret?" Astrid asked after a few seconds.

"Can you handle the truth?" Thora challenged her.

"Nothing you could say can hurt me."

"My secret is, when we started, I acted like I loved him. Now, it's not an act."

Astrid didn't respond to that.

"I've heard that you've gotten engaged to my cousin Thuggory," Thora went on. "He's big and powerful and impressive-looking, but he has a good heart. I think he wants a girl who's strong, but is willing to be feminine when no one else is around."

"Is that good news?" Astrid wondered.

"It's something you might want to know," Thora replied. "Your betrothed might look like a beast, but he isn't one, not inside where it really matters."

"I am so reassured," Astrid said.

"Astrid, I'm already part of the way down the road you're just starting, and there's one thing I can tell you for sure. The system stinks, but it _works_. And do you know _why_ it works? I think I've figured it out. It's not because all boys are wonderful on the inside, and it's not because we girls are so good at making good relationships out of bad ones.

"It works because our parents know us, and they're better at picking good husbands for us than we could ever imagine. I could have _killed_ my father when he told me I was engaged to Hiccup! I didn't want _him_ – I wanted a Viking! It turned out I was wrong both ways – I really _did_ want him, and he really _is_ a Viking. Somehow, my father sensed that, long before I realized it. Looking back, I don't think he could have picked a better husband for me.

"I know your parents care a lot about you, Astrid. They don't want to see you miserable. Give Thuggory a little time; give the system a chance to work. I know it seems hopeless, but I promise you – your mother and your father have done a much better job for you than you realize."

Astrid thought about that. There wasn't a single thing Thora had said that she could disagree with. Where did a girl her own age get that kind of wisdom?

_She probably got some of it from my mother,_ she decided. _The rest... it sounds like she's learned it the hard way. There's no denying that she's happy this way_.

"You're not at all what I expected," Astrid finally said.

Thora smiled. It was a warm, open smile that was hard not to like. "Welcome to the wonderful world of guessing wrong about people. You do, of course, have to admit that I'm the queen here."

"Actually, I think _I'm_ one of the _founders,_" Astrid replied, with a trace of a smile. She hadn't done such a great job of understanding Hiccup at first, either, and she'd had years to figure him out.

Hiccup.

Her face fell again.

"You're thinking about Hiccup, aren't you?" Thora asked. This situation was about to get hideously awkward.

"Maybe I should leave," Astrid said, and rose from her bench. If Thora was playing by the usual script, she should have stood and encouraged her to stay, but she stayed on her own bench instead.

"I guess there's only so much painful reality we can handle at a time," Thora said. "When you can endure a little more, please come back and visit. I'd love to have a friend my own age, and I don't want to be your enemy."

Astrid paused at the door. "You're not my enemy, Thora. But... a friend? I don't know. That would really be hard."

"I've been through harder changes," Thora replied. "Give it time."


	28. Chapter 28

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 28

More than almost anything else, Thora loved the forests of Berk. If she ran out of things to do while Hiccup was at the forge, she would head straight for the path that led to the woods.

Sometimes she would consider where she thought the property lines for her own acre of land should be drawn. Sometimes she was on the lookout for herbs for healing and cooking, or for wildflowers for decorating the house. Most of the time, she just wandered, looking up at the trees.

One day, she found her way blocked by three unfamiliar men – one short, one of average height, and one quite large. "A word, my lady," the short one said. "We are but poor lost circus performers. Is there a village nearby?"

"Yes, Berk village is about a quarter of a mile in that direction," she said, pointing toward her home.

"That's distant enough," the small man nodded. "No one will hear you scream." They moved to surround her. The managed to subdue her, tie her, and carry her away on the big man's back, but the small man had a bruise over his eye and some nasty scratches on his arms, and the medium-sized man was walking very uncomfortably.

"You'll never get away with this!" she shouted.

"Oh, you think your dearest love will come after you?" the small man taunted.

"He and his dragon can track a falcon on a cloudy day! They can find you," she shot back.

"That won't do him any good if he doesn't know you're gone," the medium-sized one grunted, with an unusual accent. "We'll be halfway to Outcast Island before he misses you, and by that time... too late to stop us."

"I hope so," nodded the big one. "If one of those dragon riders catches us, I don't think it will go well for us."

"Am I going mad, or did the word 'think' escape your lips?" the small one demanded. "You were _not _hired for your brains, you hippopotamic land-mass!"

They reached the coast, where a small ship had been pulled up on shore. They threw her into the ship, launched it, and climbed in. The small man took the rudder as the other two raised the sail. They set their course and glided silently away from Berk.

"Will you at least tell me what you want with me?" she asked.

"We want the same things we've always wanted – control of Berk, and revenge on the ones who made us Outcasts," the small man answered. "When our informants told us how close you and the chief's son were becoming, that made you a natural hostage. Stoick will pay a nice ransom to get his precious daughter-in-law back, won't he? Of course, we'll demand that he deliver the ransom himself. Then, when he shows up, we'll have two hostages, and – better yet – Berk won't have a chief. Wouldn't that be the perfect time to launch our little attack?" He chuckled at the thought. "We've been chosen to help start a war. It's an prestigious line of work, with a long and glorious tradition. You're going to help, whether you like it or not."

"I told you before, you'll never get away with it," she warned them. "I'm not a helpless little buttercup, just waiting to be rescued by a Hiccup."

"Really?" the small man said. "I'm intrigued! Let's see what kind of fighting you can do." He helped her stand up. "Of course, I can't untie you, so you're at a bit of a handicap, but that shouldn't stop a warrior maiden like you." He gestured to the medium-sized man. "Allow me to introduce Indigo Montoyota, the most dangerous swordsman among the Outcasts. Do you want to have some fun with this valorous shieldmaiden, Indigo?"

"I'll have to fight her left-handed," Montoyota decided. "If I use my right... over too quickly."

"That's fine," Thora nodded. "I'm used to dealing with someone who's left-handed." That gave Montoyota pause, but he still laid his hand on his sword.

"Oh, but you have to let me use at least _one _hand, won't you?" she protested, trying not to sound scared.

"I will not butcher unarmed woman," Montoyota warned. "I may be Outcast, but I still have some standards. Is only way I can be satisfied. "

"Fine," said the short man. He tied Thora's right hand to her waist, leaving her left hand free. "Now, choose your weapon. We have an oar, a belaying pin, and a bailing bucket."

"I choose sound," she said firmly.

"Sound?" all three men echoed.

"Sound," she nodded. She put her fingers in her mouth and made a loud, piercing whistle. All three men covered their ears for a moment, fearing some kind of seið-kona trick, but nothing happened.

"Is that it?" Montoyota asked.

"That was a warm-up," she said, and whistled again.

"Aside from being very loud and shrill, that's kind of pointless," the short man scowled. "Surely you don't think you can –" He was cut off as she whistled a third time.

"Enough of that!" the small man snapped, and looked around him. "Are there dragons ahead?"

"No, behind, and we'll all be dead," said the big man as he pointed. A flock of tiny dragons had left Berk and was quickly closing in on their ship. Thora gave one more whistle to guide them in. The small man lost his temper.

"No more whistling!" he demanded. "I mean it!"

"Anybody want a peanut?" asked the big man from behind him. Then the flock was upon them.

They'd come in response to her whistle, expecting to get food. What they got was three angry men who were throwing spears at them. Any Terrible Terror knows what to do in a situation like that, especially when they outnumber their attackers by ten to one.

It was a slaughter. As soon as one of the men raised a shield to stop a fire attack, he got flamed from three other directions at once. In less than two minutes, all three men had jumped overboard to escape the flames. Their clothes were scorched, their hair was singed, and the small man had no more eyebrows. The Terrors hovered over them, flaming them whenever they came up for air. The sail was smoking, as were some of the ropes that held up the mast.

Meanwhile, Thora used her free hand to untie herself. She didn't know anything about sailing a ship, so she wasn't sure what her next move should be. The decision was made for her when she heard a new sound over the shrieking of the Terrors. It was a buzzing noise.

"Fishlegs! Meatlug! Oh, I am so glad to see you!" she shouted.

"Thora!" he called back. "Would it be rude of me to ask what's going on?"

"These Outcasts were trying to kidnap me," she shouted, pointing to the three burn victims hiding in the water. "My private army came out to rescue me, and now you can finish what they started."

"Kidnap you? Inconceivable!" the big young man exclaimed. "We were out for a pleasure flight over eel-infested waters when we saw all the Terrors take off and fly out to sea at once. I got curious and followed them." Meatlug hovered next to the ship and extended a knee so Thora could climb onto her back. They buzzed away, escorted by the Terrors, who had belatedly recognized the girl who fed them.

"Do you have any other requests?" Fishlegs asked.

"Yes," Thora said with a touch of viciousness. "I want to see you burn that ship."

"Ooh, did you hear that, Meatlug? You get to have some _fun!_" The Gronckle stopped in mid-air, slowly rotated in place, then buzzed back toward the ship. The Outcasts were in the process of climbing back on board, completely thwarted in their plans, but glad to still be alive.

The dragon's first fireball hit the mast and blew it in half. Her second shot took out the rudder and a chunk of the hull. Her third fireball punched a hole in the bottom of the ship, which gracefully sank, leaving the three Outcasts with the choice of swimming or drowning.

"Do you think they'll make it home?" Fishlegs asked.

"It'll take a miracle," she replied.

When Fishlegs he returned to Berk with Thora, he didn't get a hero's welcome, because no one knew she was missing. Once she'd told her story to Stoick, though, Fishlegs found himself the center of attention for the entire island, much like Astrid had been when she took part in the rescue of the fishermen. Like her, he didn't let it go to his head. But it sure felt nice to be the hero, just for once.

When the news got to Hiccup, he left the forge in a panic and ran to find his wife. She threw herself at him and hugged him tighter than he'd ever been hugged before. "_Gently!_" he shrieked.

"Sorry," she murmured, and relaxed her grip on him. "I admit I got a little scared, but the thing that scared me the most was the idea of not seeing you again. I've gotten so used to you and our... our..."

"Mawwiage," he finished for her.

**o**

___A/N If you don't understand what's going on in this chapter, you need to watch ____The ____Princess ____Bride____._


	29. Chapter 29

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 29

Weeks went by. Hiccup and Thora together were now a commonplace sight in Berk. In fact, outside of the forge, it was unusual to see one of them without the other.

She had made some friends by training the Terrible Terrors so they'd leave the people's food alone. She made more friends when she worked with the cooks in the Mead Hall, helping them turn the Meatheads' imported meats into really tasty dishes. But the thing that endeared her to Berk most of all was the change she'd wrought in Hiccup.

He'd gained a little weight, and was no longer rail-thin. He seemed to be smiling wherever he went, and there was a bounce in his step that had never been there before, even with the spring in his leg. He frequently brought her up in conversation. There was no question in anyone's mind that she was making him very, _very _happy, and that made them quite happy with her as a result.

She seemed happy as well. She could be heard singing or humming as she went about her household chores, or as she walked to the docks and back with her buckets of baitfish for her flock of Terrors. Their neighbors who were invited to Hiccup's home for supper all came away with the same two conclusions: she knew more about cooking meat than anyone else on the island, and her home was a relaxed, happy place to be.

One of the first of those guests was Stoick. They'd invited him over as soon as she felt confident in her new kitchen area. He devoured everything she put in front of him, and praised her cooking to the skies. The conversation was polite, perhaps a little strained; Stoick remembered the grief his son had felt when he found out about his engagement, and he didn't seem to notice how they kept glancing at each other, or exchanging quick smiles, or sitting quite close together as they relaxed after the meal. Still, they deemed the evening a success.

"I wouldn't let his opinion of your cooking go to your head, though," Hiccup warned her after he left.

"Are you saying that his sense of taste is... deficient?" she asked.

"I'm saying his sense of taste is nonexistent," he said. "He'd eat a burlap bag full of sawdust if you boiled it long enough, and he'd probably call you an excellent cook. I, on the other hand, have always been a picky eater. When _I _tell you that was an awesome meal you just served, that ought to mean something." She loved his compliments best of all.

In the midst of all this, she could not escape the feeling that something was wrong.

She ignored the feeling as long as she could. It was nothing; it would pass; it wasn't important. But one morning, she felt bad enough that, after Hiccup had left for the forge, she went to visit Gothi.

Gothi's role in the town consisted most of dealing with sicknesses, accidents, battle injuries, curses from witches, and the like. When she drew her pictures (for she didn't speak), it was almost always to deliver bad news. It was depressing, but that was her role and she couldn't escape it.

Only in a very few specific instances, like Thora's, did she have the chance to give good news. That news wasn't even hard to deliver. She drew a simple stick figure, and then made one small addition to it. That told Thora all she needed to know.

A neighbor saw her almost skipping down the path. "You look happy today, Thora!" she commented. "What's new?"

"Oh, I just got some interesting news," she answered, and danced on her way. The neighbor noticed that she'd come from Gothi's house, jumped to a conclusion that turned out to be the right one, and the gossip was spreading across town almost before she got to the forge.

"Hi, Thora!" Hiccup exclaimed. He was making a decorative sword for the wall of the Mead Hall; it didn't have to be strong or sharp, but it had to look real, so there was just as much hammering on the iron as on a real sword.

She spoke slowly, timing each word to fall between the blows of his hammer so he could hear her. "I _BANG _just _BANG _got _BANG _some _BANG _news," she smiled.

"_BANG_ What's _BANG _new? _BANG_" he asked as he hammered away.

"I'm _BANG _going _BANG _to _BANG _have _BANG _a _BANG _baby!"

The hammer flew out of his hand on the backswing, spun through the air, and hit a crate of old spearheads that was balanced on a rafter. The crate fell to the floor with a horrific crash, scattering rusty spearheads everywhere; some of them narrowly missed Thora. Hiccup had frozen in place, eyes and mouth wide open, staring at her in total shock.

Before the last spearhead was done spinning on the floor, Gobber was glaring at them angrily, hand on hip, waving his hammer attachment at them. "And what, _exactly,_ is yer excuse fer _this _untidy display, my young apprentice?"

He had trouble finding his voice. "Uhh... uhhh... I'm going to have a baby?"

"Yer _what?_" Gobber demanded.

"I mean, _we _are! I mean, _she _is! I mean..." He glanced at her. "_You _are, right?" She nodded happily.

Gobber began to laugh. "Ha hah, Hiccup, ye devil! That'll show anyone who still doesn't think ye're a real man! Congratulations to both of ye!" He glanced at the pile of spearheads. "I think ye better take th' rest o' the day off, before ye kill somebody with yer celebratin'. Go on, git out!" He shooed them both out the door.

Almost from the moment they stepped outside, they were surrounded by women from all over the village. "Thora, congratulations!" "Thora, is it true?" "Congratulations, you lucky young lady!" Hiccup stepped aside, unnoticed, and tried to wrap his head around this new development.

If Thora was pregnant, that meant _he _was going to be a _father_. His first reaction was to tremble with fear. He'd seen how badly his father had messed up so many aspects of fatherhood; soon it would be his own turn, and could he do any better? He'd seen a lot of the wrong answers lived out in front of him, but that didn't mean he knew what the _right _answers were. He was sure of one thing: he didn't want his child to go through a childhood like his own.

Then he realized that, if she bore him a son, that child would be the future chief of Berk. She might have a chief inside of her! That was a weird thought. But then, the whole idea of another person inside his wife was kind of weird. So was the thought that he'd helped put that person inside her.

He suddenly felt very, _very_ protective toward his wife and the precious cargo in her belly.

What if it was a girl? Would he have the heart to marry her off to some total stranger on another island? Should he raise her that way from the outset, warning her that that was her destiny, rather than hit her between the eyes with it one day? For that matter, should he raise his son to expect something similar?

His wife was going to have a baby! The thought scared him to death, and it made him want to dance and celebrate at the same time. He settled for smiling quietly as Thora accepted the congratulations of half the women in town.

When that scene finally petered out, she turned back to Hiccup. "What should we do now?" she asked.

"I think we ought to do something special to celebrate," he decided.

"So... that means you're happy about this?"

"Happy?" he exclaimed, and hugged her tight. "Thora, I'm full of crazy mixed emotions, but most of those emotions are good ones. Yes, I'm a little nervous, and fearful about the future, but..." He squeezed her extra-tight. "I know you're going to be a great mother."

"And I know you'll be an excellent father," she said quietly. "So, what are we going to do that's special?"

He suddenly smiled broadly. "Let's go out to eat," he said.

**o**

Megadeth and his family had just sat down to eat when there was a quiet knock at the door. He got up to answer it.

"THORA!" he shouted. "Everyone, it's Thora! And Hiccup!" He gathered his daughter up in a bear hug, and somehow shook Hiccup's hand vigorously at the same time. "Come in! Come in! You've got good timing! You're just in time for supper!"

They entered Megadeth's house; it was Hiccup's first visit there. The family all shook his hand and hugged her.

"You must be exhausted after a two-day boat trip," her mother said.

"Actually, it's a little over an hour and a half on dragonback, but yes, we are a little tired," Thora smiled.

"Dragonback!" Megadeth exclaimed. "I forgot about that! Yes, that would be faster than a ship, wouldn't it? Well, come on in and pull up a bench! We aren't eating chief's fare tonight – it's only pot roast. I hope you don't mind."

"I'm sure it'll be great," Hiccup reassured him. "Your daughter has been teaching me to appreciate how meat is _meant _to be cooked. I'm dying to find out how her _teacher_ does it." Thora's mother smiled at that.

They spent a pleasant meal together, getting to know Hiccup better and exchanging stories of life in their respective villages. Thora's tale of her kidnapping held them spellbound.

"You mean you tamed a whole _flock _of Terrible Terrors?" her younger sister Alfdis asked, incredulous. "How did you do that?"

"Food, patience, and more food," she answered with a grin. "They're greedy little things; they'll do anything for a bite to eat. But now, if no one minds, I need to tell Mother something. In private." The two women scurried into the sleeping area; silence fell on the rest of the family, even though they knew they'd never overhear anything if Thora was whispering. They had no problem overhearing her mother's excited shout, or her delighted laughter.

"Whatever it is, it sounds like good news," Megadeth said to Hiccup.

Hiccup nodded and said, "I can give you a clue." He leaned over and whispered in the bigger man's ear, "You're going to be a grandfather."

"A grand–" He leaped to his feet, laughing out loud. "It's barely been three months since the wedding! Ha-hahh! Hiccup, you may have started slow, but you're sure making up for it! That _is _good news!"

"That's the main reason we came to visit," Hiccup smiled.

"If we'd known about that, we'd be eating something a lot fancier than pot roast!" the big man shouted.

"This was fine, believe me," Hiccup replied. "My people are still learning how to cook meat; it's a joy to find out what it's supposed to taste like."

Megadeth suddenly turned toward the door. "This news is too good to keep to ourselves," he decided. "If my wife asks where I've gone, tell her I've gone to get my brother." He was off into the night before Hiccup could reply.

That left Hiccup alone in the room with young Alfdis.

"So... what did you think of Berk while you were there?" he finally asked.

"It was nice, but the dragons are scary," she answered.

"They take some getting used to," Hiccup nodded, "but they're kind of nice, once you get to know them. They never tease you, or say nasty things about you to your friends, and they never hurt anyone unless you try to hurt them."

"They've hurt lots of people here," Alfdis said firmly.

"They hurt lots of people on Berk, too," Hiccup agreed, "but they don't do it anymore. Hey! How would you like to be the first person on this island to pat a dragon on the nose?"

Her eyes went wide. "Will he bite my hand off?"

"No, of course not!" Hiccup chuckled. "Toothless is nice, as long as I'm around. What do you think?"

Alfdis took a deep breath and thought about it. "Okay."

Hiccup led her around to the back of the house, where he'd told the Night Fury to stay. Not all the Meatheads knew about Berk's future chief and his dragon, and Hiccup wanted to keep some space between his dark scaly friend and any glory-hungry warriors who might be looking for a dragon head. Toothless was resting, but sat up when he heard Hiccup coming. He growled when he saw Alfdis. She tried to pull away, but he held onto her hand.

"Toothless, this is Alfdis. She's a _friend_. She wants to pat you on the nose, nothing more. Okay, bud?"

Toothless stopped growling and bent down to stare in the eleven-year-old's eyes. Those eyes were wide and a bit fearful, but she, like Thora, had been raised on the idea of being strong.

"He's kind of big," she said.

"He's kind of small, as dragons go," he replied. "A Monstrous Nightmare would be twice his size, or more. But he's fast, he's smart, and once you make friends with him, he's as nice as they come. Just reach out your hand and pat him on the nose."

"I'll be the first one?" she wondered.

"Your big sister was the first Meathead to pat a dragon, but she did it on Berk," Hiccup explained. "You'll be the first one on your own island."

Slowly, in a scene that reminded Hiccup of the first time he'd reached out to Toothless, she stretched out her arm and rested her hand on the dragon's muzzle. Her breath caught in her throat. Toothless let out a little croon that startled her for a moment, but she didn't pull away.

"You're braver than a lot of people I know," he nodded. "I think he likes you."

She started breathing again, and rubbed Toothless' nose with the palm of her hand. "He's warm!" she said, slightly amazed. "I thought he'd be cold or slimy or something."

"No, dragons are pretty warm, and I'm glad about that," he replied. "When you're flying fast and the wind is chilling you, it's good to be sitting on a nice warm dragon to keep you from getting cold."

"How did you tame him?" she asked.

"He isn't tame, like a dog or a horse is tame," Hiccup answered. "He stays with me because he wants to, but if someone tried to hurt him, he'd fight back like any other dragon. If you mean, 'How did I _train _him?' the answer is, 'It wasn't easy.' We had to learn how to trust each other. You could say he trained me just as much as I trained him."

"Ahhh, taking good care of your sister-in-law, I see." Hiccup hadn't heard Megadeth coming, or Mogadon or Thuggory, for that matter.

"Sister-in-law?" He honestly hadn't thought of Alfdis in those terms.

"Well, you married her sister, so that's what she is," Megadeth said. "We heard voices from behind the house and decided to check it out. Shall we all go back inside now?"

"I'll be inside in a minute," Hiccup decided quickly, "but first, I'd like a word with Thuggory." The grown men nodded and walked back around the house with Alfdis, leaving the two chiefs' sons together in the back yard.

"I heard you just got engaged," Hiccup began.

"My dad worked it out," Thuggory nodded. "He says she's pretty and she's good with an axe."

"Your dad is mistaken," Hiccup said firmly. "Astrid is _beautiful _and she's _deadly _with an axe. She isn't so great at cooking or sewing, but I know she can learn that stuff."

"You know her well?" Thuggory wondered.

"Let me put it this way," Hiccup said. "You know how a girl's father always tells the guy to take good care of his little girl?" Thuggory nodded. "In Astrid's case, I'll be standing right behind her father with the same warning. If you make her happy, that will make me happy. As a future chief, I'm sure you can appreciate that."

Thuggory paused. "Is there something going on between you two?"

"There was," Hiccup replied. "She is a very dear friend of mine, and I want to see her happy. She's strong-willed and she has a temper. She's also loyal and honest, she likes to succeed at whatever she tries, and like I said, she's beautiful. I know she'll make you happy, unless you treat her badly."

"Why would I want to do that to my own wife?" Thuggory demanded. "Do you think I'm some kind of monster or something?"

"I didn't think that," Hiccup said quickly. "You impressed me the first time we met, back on that mock-battlefield. I just want to be sure you understand _my_ position. I've married your cousin; that makes us kinsmen. I'll never match you in size or strength, but you could _never _care for that girl more than I did once. Be good to her."

Thuggory nodded. "Believe me, I'll do that." He turned to leave.

"Oh, Thuggory, one more thing? Did your father tell you she trained a Deadly Nadder and rides it every day?"

That stopped the big young Meathead in his tracks. Memories of his ride on Toothless were probably filling his head. Hiccup smiled.

"The dragon's name is Stormfly, she's female, and she likes chicken. You might be able to use that information some day."

Thuggory grinned and stuck out his hand. "Hiccup, you are surprisingly cool!" Hiccup clasped hands with his kinsman; Thuggory eased up on his grip before he cost Hiccup some finger bones.


	30. Chapter 30

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 30

The weather turned bad as they flew homeward that night. The snow was beginning to fall as they left Thora's family's house, and it was getting heavier as they got closer to home.

"We're going to be snowbound for a _week_ once this storm is done with us!" she said.

"I don't know how the Meatheads handle blizzards," Hiccup said over his shoulder, "but in Berk, we try to help each other. We make sure every house is connected to the others by a cleared path, and we make sure everyone is alive and well. Each house has to look after its own food and firewood. Once the storm ends, everybody pitches in to clear the town and the docks. Once the ice sets in, the docks take a lower priority."

"We do pretty much the same thing," she said, "but we have to be more self-reliant because our houses are farther apart than yours are."

"How are we set for emergency supplies?" he asked.

"We've got a few days' worth of dried food," she replied. "What happens if we run out?"

"Toothless and I will go fishing," he answered. "Our diet might get monotonous, but we won't starve."

The snow was several inches deep on Berk by the time they got home. As they finished removing Toothless' flying rig, Hiccup caught Thora by the arm. "Remember when we made the deal about no dragons in the house? We said, if his life or health was in danger from the cold, we'd work something out – remember? Tonight, I think we need to work something out."

She looked from her concerned husband to the black dragon, who was shaking a coating of snow off his wings and body. "If you can't make him behave, out he goes!"

"Deal!" he exclaimed, and held the door open. "Toothless, you're in here with us until this storm is over! Come on in!"

To his surprise, the dragon refused to go into the house.

"What's the matter, bud?" Hiccup was mystified. He tried all his familiar approaches to get the dragon indoors, but Toothless would not budge.

"Now what?" Thora asked.

"It's no use arguing with a dragon," he grumbled. "Let's get inside and get warm!" Toothless curled up under a nearby tree as they pulled the door shut behind them. They brushed all the snow off each other and stoked their two firepits in preparation for a long winter's night.

As they stretched out in their bed, Hiccup sighed, "Just think! We could be stuck in here for days, all by ourselves, just the two of us!"

"Just the three of us, you mean," she smiled.

"Number Three will be here soon enough," he replied with a matching smile and a gentle hand on her belly. "Let's enjoy our privacy while we've still got it." The look in her eyes told him she liked that idea just fine.

By morning, the snow was up to the bottom of their window, and the winds were howling outside. By throwing themselves against the door, they were able to force it open far enough for Hiccup to slip through and see what was happening outside. Toothless was up in the branches of the tree and seemed to be okay. The other buildings in town were just shadows, obscured by flying snow. He filled their two buckets with the white stuff and went back inside. The snow would soon melt, giving them some water for cooking and drinking.

They had food, they had firewood, and they had each other. It was like a second honeymoon, and they took full advantage of it. By the time it got dark that night, the snow was nearly to the top of their window. The snowfall stopped sometime during the night, but the wind kept blowing, packing the snow into drifts. By the following morning, they couldn't open their door as much as an inch.

"We're stuck here," she said. She wasn't sure if she should be bothered or not.

"It's okay," he reassured her. "Like I said, the others in the town will be digging paths to everyone's houses. Someone will be tapping on our door by suppertime, probably before then."

"So we've only got a few more hours all by ourselves?" she said, with a suggestive look. She didn't have to make _that _suggestion twice.

"How did I get so lucky, to get a wife like you?" he asked as they lay together afterward.

"I thought _I _was the lucky one," she answered softly.

"No, I'm definitely the lucky one," he smiled, and kissed her on the cheek. They had absolutely nothing to do, so they cuddled together until lunch time.

By supper time, Thora was getting nervous. "You said someone would be here by now."

"I admit I'm a little surprised," he nodded.

"Has there ever been a time when a house got forgotten after a storm?" she asked.

"Not that I know of," he said. He didn't sound very sure of himself.

"What will happen if they _do _forget us?" she wondered.

"Probably our best option would be for one of us to climb out the smoke-hole, stand on the roof, and yell for help," he decided. "Or I could go up on the roof and get Toothless to dig the door out."

"Can you fly with him to get help?"

"Not without his flying gear, and that's under six feet of snow," he said with a shake of his head. "That wasn't very good planning on my part."

"How about sitting on his back while he walks to town for help?"

"Toothless can do a lot," he said, "but I don't think he can walk in snow this deep. He'd sink in over his head with his first step. He's still up in that tree, and that's probably where he'll stay until I can get to his flying gear, or until I ask him to dig his way to our door."

The next morning, they heard and felt a crash on the roof, but it wasn't accompanied by a roar, and it didn't happen again. "That's Toothless up there, right?" Thora asked.

"It has to be," Hiccup nodded. "He probably got sick of perching in the tree, and glided onto the roof. I'm sure it's warmer up there for him. He's figured out that we can't go flying, but our roof is still a familiar place to him."

By mid-afternoon, they decided they'd waited long enough. "How do you plan to get up onto the roof?" Thora wondered.

"At first, I thought we'd put out one of our fires, move a bed under that smoke-hole, and pile stuff on top of it so I could climb up," Hiccup thought out loud. "But now that Toothless is up there, that gives me a better idea. Do we have some rope around here?"

"I'll check the storage area," she nodded. A minute later, she came back with a coil of rope. "It isn't very long."

"It doesn't have to be, I hope." He tied one end in a loop and stuck his good foot into it. "Hey, Toothless!" he called. The dragon stuck his head into the vent. "If I throw this rope up to you, can you catch it in your mouth and pull me up?" The dragon grunted.

"Does that mean yes or no?" Thora asked.

"It means I have to try it to find out if he understands," Hiccup said with a shrug. "Here you go, bud!" He threw the coil of rope upwards, underhanded. Toothless watched, curious, as it unwound and fell back down.

"No, I want you to catch it!" Hiccup explained. He put the rope in his own mouth. "Like dis!" he called. Then he coiled it up again and threw it again. This time, the dragon caught it and lifted his head sharply. Hiccup had been holding onto the rope, but when the dragon pulled on it, the strong jerk yanked it out of his hands, and he found himself hanging upside down by his foot, with his head three feet above the fire. Thora broke up laughing at the sight.

"I'm sure this looks very amusing," he said, "but I'm getting a hot head. Toothless, pull me up!" The dragon backed away from the smoke-hole, and Hiccup glided upward. He soon found himself on the roof, which was almost free of snow, due to the rising heat from two fire pits. He stood and looked around until he saw a few Vikings, laboring with snow shovels a few houses away.

"Hey! Over here! Dig us out!" he shouted, waving his arms. Toothless added a roar or two of his own, just for additional volume. After a few seconds, the Vikings turned and noticed them. That set off a flurry of activity. About an hour and a half later, their door was clear and they were offering warm mead to their rescuers.

"How come it took you guys so long to get to us?" Thora demanded.

"The chief put Spitelout in charge of the digging," the group's leader explained apologetically, "and he put Snotlout in charge as a training exercise. Snotlout said we had to focus on clearing the docks and the ramps first, and dig out the houses second."

"That's stupid!" Hiccup exclaimed. "The harbor must be frozen over by now, and all our ships were hauled up on land a week ago! Why would we need to dig the docks out?"

"Those were the orders," the man said. "Once we finally started going from house to house, we've done it the same way for so many years... your house is new, and we just forgot about you. We're sorry."

"You forgot about us, even with a black dragon on the roof?" Thora was incredulous.

"We weren't looking up, I guess," the leader admitted.

"Well, thank you for coming for us," Hiccup replied. "I'll speak to my dad and Spitelout about not forgetting us again."

After they left, Hiccup and Thora shared a hug. "Well, _that _was an adventure," he decided.

"I still wonder why Toothless didn't want to come inside," she said.

"I don't know," he replied thoughtfully. "I suppose he doesn't think of our house as a place where he can go. I'm just glad he _didn't_ come in, or we'd all still be stuck in here together."

"Would it bother him when we... you know... get cozy with each other?" she asked. "I mean, would he get jealous?"

"Not a bit," he replied. "He can always tell when I'm happy, and he likes that. You make me happy, so he likes you. Of course, he might pull the blankets and furs off us to see what we're doing, but –"

"_Not _happening," she said firmly. "So how can we prepare for the next big storm, so we get through it better?"

"For starters, I'm going to try my first home-improvement project," Hiccup said. "I'm going to move Toothless' rigging box higher off the ground and closer to the door, and I'm going to re-hang that door so it swings inward!"


	31. Chapter 31

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 31

Winter dragged on. The snow subsided slightly; the Vikings dug a lot of it away; then another storm dropped three more feet of the white stuff on them, and the shovelers had to start all over. Most of those shovelers were the town's fishermen, who couldn't sail or fish in frozen seas anyway, so they had plenty of time to dig.

Berk tightened its belt. The icy seas meant the trading ships to and from the Meatheads couldn't sail, either, so the supply of beef and bacon ran out quickly. Dried fish became the staple of their diet, with some chicken now and then to keep the monotony from driving them crazy.

The town's dragons couldn't subsist on dried fish. They had another option – they could fly out to sea until they found open water, and catch their own fish there. One of the teens (no one could remember who; they all took credit for it) had the bright idea of asking the dragons to bring back some extra fish once they were done eating. Fresh fish didn't look that much better than dried fish, but it was a lot tastier. The expectant mothers of the town got the greater share of those fish, and Berk's other citizens got a fresh meal every few days, going in strict rotation.

One of those expectant mothers was Thora.

"I feel guilty, eating like a glutton when other people in the town are going hungry," she said to Hiccup one morning. Her breakfast was a rich fish chowder; he was chewing on some leftover chicken.

"You're not eating it for yourself," Hiccup reminded her. "You're eating for the sake of your passenger."

"I know, but it still seems wrong," she said. She took another bite anyway. "Do you want some?"

He shook his head sadly. "I'd love to, but I can't. That food is for you and the baby. If word got out that the chief's son was eating well at his people's expense, it wouldn't be good. That's why I've been eating at the Mead Hall."

"I thought you were sick of my cooking," she said wistfully.

"Sick of your –" Hiccup couldn't believe it. "You don't know what I'd _give _to taste some more of your cooking! You've spoiled me rotten with your herbs and your spices and your Meathead kitchen tricks! The cooks at the Mead Hall do their best, but the food there is bland, bland, _bland!_"

"You look like you're losing a little weight," she observed.

"I'm just fading back to normal," he shrugged. "You'll pack it back onto me again once spring comes. By the time we reach our first anniversary, you'll probably have to make me some bigger clothes!"

"I don't want to hear it," she sighed as she took another bite. "_I'm_ the one who needs bigger clothes! Me and this 'passenger' of yours!"

"Of _mine?_" He chuckled and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "It seems to me that _you_ had something to do with it, remember?"

She smiled and kissed him. "I remember."

"You taste like savory fish," he said. "I probably should get up to the forge. Do you have enough firewood for the day?"

"Yes, but we'll need some for tonight," she said as she took another bite. "I can bring it in."

"Id rather take care of it," he replied, resting a hand on her shoulder. "You need to take good care of yourself."

"I'm not helpless, Hiccup!" she snapped, and quickly regretted it. "I'm sorry. I know you're only trying to take care of me. I'll take small loads and not overload myself, I promise."

"Okay," he said, a bit reluctantly. "Take it easy. I'll be back to check on you at lunch time." He kissed her again, with a little more feeling this time, and left for the forge.

Working as a smith's apprentice wasn't the worst occupation in the world, and in the dead of winter, it was one of the best. In all Berk, his workplace was probably the warmest. Of course, it was as cold as the great outdoors in the early morning, before he got the forge heated up, and the cold went right up his metal leg into his bones. He still hadn't thought of anything he could do about that.

Gobber was a bit slow-moving that morning. By the time the master smith got to work, the apprentice had already sharpened two axes and three ice picks, and the forge was close to working temperature. The crusty old smith probably wouldn't say anything _too _nice about Hiccup's diligence, but he'd have nothing to complain about, either.

"Mornin', young man. Are ye tryin' to take over my forge an' put me out of a job?"

"Oh, no, Gobber, I could _never_ take your place! I've still got too much hair!"

"Humph," Gobber snorted. "I'm needin' a word with yer wife about improvin' yer manners! If _that's_ respectin' yer elders, then _I'm_ a Vermicious Knid!"

Hiccup feigned fear. "Oh, no! _Please _don't tell my wife! I'll be good! I'll do anything!"

"Well, fer starters, can ye find where I left my ten-pound hammer, so I can whack ye on the head with it?"

"Do you mean the ten-pound hammer that's hanging on the wall right behind you, or do you mean some other ten-pound hammer?"

"I'm needin' to speak to yer wife, all right. I could almost miss the old Hiccup. At least 'e knew his _place!_"

Back and forth they went like two fencers, neither one willing to let the other one have the last word. The whole time, they were moving around the forge, setting up jobs and getting work done, without once getting in each other's way. Years of practice had honed their cooperation to the point where they worked together like two parts of a well-made machine.

"Ahh, Ruffnut, good mornin'!" Gobber called to their next customer. "Still dullin' yer spearheads by bangin' 'em against yer brother's head, I see."

"Yeah, I need another sharpening," she grunted in her gravelly voice. "How come it always gets dull so fast?'

"You bought the cheapest metal there is," Hiccup answered as he took the double-ended spear. "Save your coppers and buy some spearheads made out of _good_ iron, and you could probably go two or three weeks before we had to sharpen it. You'd save money in the long run." He spun up the grinding wheel.

"How am I supposed to save my money when I have to keep spending it to keep this thing sharp?" she demanded.

"Perhaps ye could take a break from fightin' fer a couple o' weeks, and ye wouldn't need so many sharpenin's," Gobber mused. He held out his hand, and Ruff reluctantly dropped a copper into his palm.

"Well, what am I supposed to do with myself if I don't fight anybody?" she asked.

"Have ye considered knittin'? Rug hookin'? Flower arrangin'?" the smith grinned. Ruffnut glowered at him and thought dark thoughts.

"Hey, Ruff," Hiccup called over the noise of the sharpening stone, "while you're waiting, would you do me a favor and check on Thora for me?"

"Again?" Ruff exclaimed. "What do you think she's going to do, feed eels to Toothless or something?"

"I just worry about her," Hiccup shrugged. "You've got nothing else to do until this thing is sharp. Please?"

Ruff thought about it. "Fine," she grumbled, and slouched away toward Hiccup's house.

"Ye're really fussin' over that wife o' yours," Gobber observed. "Women _have _been known to survive pregnancy, ye know."

"I know, but I just worry," Hiccup replied. "We've never done this before, and I'm a little nervous about the whole thing."

Gobber shrugged, and they returned to work. About seven minutes later, Ruffnut shuffled back into the forge.

"Is everything okay?" Hiccup asked.

"I'm not sure," Ruff answered. "She was curled up on the bed, saying, 'It hurts, it hurts.' That's not very Viking-like, if you ask me."

"That's not very Thora-like, either!" Hiccup exclaimed. "Gobber, I think I need to go get Gothi."

"_Run,_ boy," Gobber growled.

Hiccup ran. He fell twice when his metal leg hit slick spots on the snow-packed paths; he was lucky he didn't break something when he went down the second time. He hammered on the old woman's door and blurted out Ruffnut's story. She thought for a moment, grabbed two bags of herbs and medical supplies, and gestured for him to lead the way. She probably walked as fast as she was capable of moving, but the trip back to his house seemed to take far too long.

Once inside the house, Gothi quickly sized up the situation. With simple gestures, she got Thora to tell her where it hurt, how badly, and for how long. Then she gestured for Hiccup to leave the house. That wasn't good.

He waited outside. He was alone at the outset, but that didn't last. In a small town, gossip flies faster than the northern winds. Edda Hofferson was the first to join him, followed by his father, Fishlegs, Gunnar Hofferson, Gobber, and finally Astrid. No one said anything; no one knew what to say.

Every now and then, they would hear Thora cry out from inside. Her cries became more anguished; the last one was more of a scream. Then... there was silence.

About twenty endless minutes after that, the door swung open and Gothi slowly stepped out. She looked up at Hiccup, sadly shook her head, and returned to her home without looking back.

_No!_ His heart sank into his boots, and then even lower than that. She _couldn't_ be gone! They'd barely started to get to know each other! They were going to raise a family, and she was going to help him be chief, and... what would he do without her? What _could_ he do? _How_ could this have happened? She was fine when he left! Maybe if he'd gone to check on her himself, instead of sending a messenger like Ruffnut who didn't really care, maybe that could have bought a few minutes that might have saved her...

No one else said anything. They stared at the ground, waiting for him to do something, or say something. The next move was his.

He took a deep breath, steeled himself, took hold of the latch of his door, and stepped into his house.

She was lying in bed, crying quietly.

"Thora..." he whispered, and nearly leaped at her; he forced himself to slow down and be gentle at the last moment. She looked up, saw him running at her, and held out her arms, and they clung to each other as though they were holding each other back from death itself.

"You're alive," he finally whispered.

"Hiccup," she sobbed. "I lost the baby."

"I thought I lost _you,_" he half-sobbed back.

"You mean... you were more worried about me than..."

"Of course I was!" he blurted out. "I...

"I...

"I love you."

She stared at him, eyes shining. "Did you just say...?"

He nodded firmly. "I love you. I used to think I could never say those words to you, but if I don't say them now, it would be as bad as lying. I love you."

She clung to him and didn't let go. Their visitors satisfied themselves that she would be okay, and then gave them their privacy. Hiccup left only to bring back two supper plates from the Mead Hall. They held each other all evening and long into the night. She did a lot of crying, and he did some, too.

But through her physical and emotional pain, there was a spark of joy in her that could not be extinguished. In spite of what she'd lost, she had won the greatest prize of all. Her husband had said so himself. He loved her.


	32. Chapter 32

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 32

Thora took a while to bounce back from her miscarriage. She recovered fairly quickly, in physical terms, but her heart took much longer to return to normal. For several weeks, she was locked in deep depression. Hiccup had to do all the chores around the house; she wouldn't even go the Mead Hall for meals unless he reminded her and went with her. He did what he had to do, and waited patiently, hoping he would soon get his wife back.

"You need to get out of this house," he told her one day after lunch. "Walk around; get some fresh air; say hello to people. They miss you."

"That's nice," she muttered. After he went back to the forge for the afternoon, she reluctantly wrapped herself in her warmest coat and went for a slow walk. She nodded when people greeted her, but said nothing.

She wound up looking down into the Dragon Training Academy, where the five remaining teens were light-heartedly taunting each other about their respective dragons' peculiarities. She waited for a lull in the conversation, then called, "By the way, whichever of you nailed that board across the threshold during the wedding reception and put a curse on my marriage... I just wanted to thank you for helping kill my baby." Then she turned and walked away, leaving stunned silence behind her.

Fishlegs brought the incident to Hiccup's attention that afternoon. He sucked in his breath between his teeth and shook his head.

"That's kind of dark for her, isn't it?" Fishlegs asked.

"Very," Hiccup nodded. "Try not to take it personally."

"I didn't. I had no part in that board thing they did," Fishlegs said defensively. "That bit about tripping on the threshold... I thought it was just a silly tradition."

"I think so too, and so does she," Hiccup replied. "I don't know why she said what she said. I really hope it doesn't happen again, although, personally, I'm not sorry she put the blast on those guys. Maybe she overdid it, but those pranks just weren't funny. Just try to be patient. She isn't herself."

"Then who is she?" Fishlegs asked.

"Someone who's suffering," he answered sadly. "The girl I love is in there somewhere, but I don't know how to reach her." Fishlegs nearly leaped out of his boots in shock at hearing Hiccup say the word "love" about someone other than Astrid, but to his everlasting credit, he kept that knowledge to himself.

A week later, Hiccup came home and found the house empty. No one had seen her lately. After much frantic searching, he finally found her on the docks, staring out at the ice-choked harbor and the frozen sea beyond it.

He walked up behind her; she didn't respond. He rested a hand on her shoulder and asked, "Would you like me and Toothless to fly you home, so you can visit your family?"

"No!" she exclaimed. "I do _not _want you and Toothless to..." She stopped and looked at him. He was only trying to help, any way he could. His green eyes were full of concern for her. She tried to think of something nasty to say, and there wasn't anything. Her eyes filled up, and she flung her arms around him and cried hysterically for almost half an hour. He held her patiently; somehow he knew this was a turning point, and his Thora was finally coming home.

"I'm so sorry for the way I've treated you," she sniffled as they walked up the ramps together.

"You're going through something I don't understand," he replied. "There wasn't much for me to do, except wait until you came out the other side."

"You could have run to Astrid's arms for comfort," she said, a bit harshly. "Even those metal shoulder pads would have seemed soft, compared to _me _lately."

"Thora, don't say things like that! I married _you!_"

"The thought never crossed your mind?" she demanded.

"No, honestly, the thought never crossed my mind," he said.

She gazed at him for a moment, then hugged him again. "I don't deserve you," she whispered.

"You deserve better than me," he whispered back, "but I'm glad you're starting to feel like yourself again."

Within a week, she was acting like the Thora he knew and loved. He never mentioned that dark time again.

She threw herself into life, as though she were trying to make up for lost time. The fact that Hiccup had lost the weight he'd gained in the autumn bothered her. "If I could just get my hands on some decent meat, I'd cook you a meal fit for a chief!" she declared.

"_Every _meal you cook is fit for a chief, because a future chief eats it," he said. Berk's monotonous winter diet was a part of his everyday life, but he had to admit, he'd gotten used to her cooking. The thought of one of her roasts made him salivate. "But it will be a few more weeks before the harbor ices out and we can launch our ships again. It'll be at least a week after that before the inner seas thaw out and the trading ships from your islands can sail. We'll be meatless until then."

"Okay," she nodded. "How about if we go where the meat is, and bring some back?"

**o**

Megadeth and his family were knocking icicles off the roof when Alfdis pointed into the sky. A dragon was coming!

"Sound the alarm!" his wife shouted.

"No, wait! There's only one of them!" he said in return.

"One dragon is bad enough!" she shot back.

"What if it's Toothless, with Thora and Hiccup?" Alfdis wondered.

"What if it's a normal dragon, here to carry off our livestock?" her mother demanded.

"It looks like it's already carrying something," Megadeth said. "It's headed straight for our house, and we don't keep any livestock here. Let's watch and see."

Alfdis was right about the dragon's identity. They had a happy reunion, marred only by the need to tell Thora's family about losing the baby. The talk soon turned to more pleasant matters.

"You've brought us a rather large present," Megadeth said, gesturing at the bulging bundle of sailcloth that Toothless had deposited in their front yard. "Is this a late Snoggletog gift?"

"No, this is our attempt to keep the trade agreement going," Hiccup explained. "It's full of the yarns and wool that would move by ship, if the ships could get through the ice. We figured your tribe could count out what we've brought, and give us a fair amount of meat in return."

"We weren't expecting this. It might take until tomorrow to round up the meat," Megadeth said.

"We don't mind staying overnight," Thora said. "You've got plenty of room for a couple of houseguests, right?"

"_Houseguests?_ You're _family!_" her father burst out. "Of course, we'll have to clear all your mother's quilting projects off of your old bed, but aside from that, you're welcome to stay the night. She'll see to the arrangements. I need to find Mogadon and tell him a trading ship just flew in." He ambled off toward the Mead Hall; his wife was soon bustling around indoors, cleaning Thora's old sleeping area and preparing for a larger supper than usual. Alfdis was patting Toothless on the nose and renewing their acquaintance. Hiccup and Thora had time on their hands.

"How about you show me around the island?" he asked. "I never got much of a guided tour, and I've never really met your friends, except in battle."

"Sure," she nodded. "If the other teens aren't having a snowball fight, they're probably sitting in the Mead Hall, enduring another lesson from Horselips the priest. He teaches us about all the gods and goddesses that we offer sacrifices to, so they can keep on ignoring us when we need them the most."

"You don't put much trust in the gods, either?" Hiccup asked as they walked.

"It's hard to revere gods who are just as jealous and petty and lust-driven as we are," she said dismissively. "Thor, Odin, Freyja, the whole lot of them – they're no different from us, except they're stronger; that's all. If I could find a god who is actually better than the people he created, I'd worship a god like that... but the ones we've got? Pffft!"

"I'm with you there," he nodded.

They eventually found the other teens, minus Thuggory, in the Mead Hall, sitting in a circle around an old man wearing white leathers that matched his hair. It sounded like he was telling them the story of how the god Thor tried to disguise himself as a woman, beard and all, in order to get his stolen hammer back from a giant. When they saw Thora, they deserted their teacher en masse and rushed to greet her.

"Thora!" "How have you been?" "We've missed you!"

She smirked. "The only reason you missed me is because now there's an odd number of you, so you can't make fair teams for battles!"

"We tried putting your sister in your place," one of the smaller boys said, "but she isn't bloodthirsty enough." The boys soon wandered in one direction, and the girls went the other way.

Barth accosted Hiccup. "Thuggory told us how you really lost your leg," he stated.

"Okay," he replied, not sure where this was going.

"Why did you lie to us?" Barth demanded.

"Would you have believed the truth?" he came back.

"I _still _don't believe it," another boy interjected.

Hiccup shrugged casually. "Maybe you'd like to see the dragon who did all the work?"

"There's a _dragon_ here?" three of them said at once.

"How do you think I got here?" he replied. "The ships aren't sailing yet, and you _know _I didn't walk." He waved his metal leg in the air. When they hesitated, he grinned. "Oh, come on! You're not _afraid,_ are you?" That got them moving.

As they approached Megadeth's house, Hiccup cautioned them, "Don't cluster up too tightly, and don't make any sudden moves. Toothless can be a little nervous with strangers." They nodded solemnly.

They rounded the corner of the house, and found Toothless resting on the ground. He leaped to his feet when he saw six young men approaching him, but relaxed slightly when he realized that Hiccup was among them. Hiccup kept walking; the others stopped in their tracks.

"What... _is _it?" Barth asked, with an unseemly quaver in his voice.

"He's a Night Fury," Hiccup answered, with a note of pride. He knew none of them had ever seen a dragon like this before.

After a few silent seconds, one of the boys asked, "How come a boy like _him _gets to ride a Night Fury?"

"He's the son of a _chief,_ you numbskull!" Barth answered. They watched in silence as Hiccup approached the dragon, talked casually with it, and scratched behind its ears.

"If we killed it, we'd be the heroes of the whole village," a boy said quietly.

"If we killed it, their chief's son would hate us, and we'd be at war with Berk, and they'd bring all their dragons and they'd _burn _the whole village," Barth hissed back. "_Think _before you swing that hammer!"

"My dad says thinking is for losers!" the first boy answered hotly.

Barth gestured at Hiccup, who was explaining to the dragon that they were spending the night here. "Does that dragon-rider look like a loser to you?" There wasn't much they could say to that.

Meanwhile, Thora's friends were dying of curiosity about her new life. "Is it true you're surrounded by dragons?" one asked.

"Surrounded?" Thora chuckled. "I've got a dragon who dances on my roof every morning, and my own private flock of Terrible Terrors who come when I call!" That brought them up short; they knew Thora was not given to lies or exaggerations.

"How did you tame them?" another girl wondered.

"The same way I tamed my husband – with food and patience," she smiled.

"What's it like, being married to _him?_" a third girl asked.

" 'Him' might be the most wonderful man I've ever known," she said with feeling.

"She's in love," someone whispered to someone else.

"He's no Thuggory," the first girl said.

"No, he isn't, and I'm glad for that," she replied. "I like him just fine, just the way he is."

"Skinny and weak," someone murmured, and her friends couldn't help laughing. Thora started to get mad.

"I thought the same thing about him once," she declared, "and I was wrong. I didn't even know him. You don't know him, either. Don't be so quick to judge what you don't understand!"

"Definitely in love," someone whispered to someone else.

The conversation petered out after that. Thora realized that what Hiccup said about his friends was also true of her and her friends – now that she was married, she'd crossed a line, and she couldn't be part of their group any more. That left her feeling lonely and isolated. She turned back for her parents' home. Maybe Hiccup had wound up there, seeing how that was the only place on the island he was familiar with.

She found him in front of the house, standing in the center of a group of boys, trying to describe what it was like to fly through the clouds. She sidled up next to him; he wrapped an arm around her waist without missing a beat of his story.

When he paused for breath, one of the smaller boys demanded, "Are you going to get all lovey-dovey on us?"

"We might," Hiccup grinned. "We're married; we're allowed to." He gave Thora a quick peck on the cheek.

"Ewww!" exclaimed four of the five boys, who quickly scattered. Only Barth was left, and that was because he was willing to endure almost anything if it meant hearing more about dragons. Hiccup gave him plenty to think about before the afternoon was done.

"I love learning this stuff," he said as they prepared to part for the evening, "but what good does it do me? I'll never be the warrior Thuggory is, and I'll never be the chief, either."

"You seem to be more the thinking type than Thuggory is," Hiccup observed, and Thora nodded.

"Don't say that so loud!" Barth begged. "Thinking is the surest way to get nowhere around here."

"This place isn't so different from Berk," Hiccup said. "Maybe you won't be the chief, but every chief needs a right-hand man and an advisor, right? Thuggory doesn't have any brothers or male cousins, so the number-two position will go to the Viking who serves him best. You could be the second-in-command of this island, just like Megadeth serves Mogadon."

"Hmmm." Barth considered that. "You know what? You're right! Thanks!" He left with a spring in his step that hadn't been there before.

"It looks like you've made another ally among my people," Thora grinned.

"I like my first ally best of all," he smiled back.


	33. Chapter 33

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 33

Berk had changed a lot in the seven generations since it was founded. In spite of the pressures of hunger, dragons, and other raiding tribes, the town had grown, slowly but steadily. The usual pattern was "tradesmen's buildings in the center, homes on the outskirts," but homes that had been built on the outskirts of the original town were turned into workshops as the need for more tradesmen grew, and more homes were built on the new, enlarged outskirts to take their places. By the time Hiccup and Thora's new house was built, the town of Berk was taking up more than triple its original area, and good places for new houses were getting hard to find. Stoick had chosen the best spot he could find for his son, but it was in an area that hadn't been developed before, and it had not been well surveyed.

One morning in late winter, Hiccup came back from his ride on Toothless, knowing that their firewood supply was very low. "I'll make a couple of trips before I go to the forge," he promised Thora, and set out with his leather log-carrier. Firewood didn't just heat their house; it also cooked their meals and, in winter, it melted buckets of snow into water for drinking and cooking. Running out of wood was not an option.

When he didn't come back after a while, Thora got concerned. When Gobber stopped by and asked if she'd seen him, she got really worried.

"If he shows up, I'll send someone to tell ye," Gobber said as he left. "He's probably pickin' up some fish for Toothy, or somethin' like that." She knew it couldn't be that simple. She set out to find him.

Following his footprints in the snow was easy; no one else in town had a left-foot print like his artificial leg. Apparently, he'd taken a shortcut across a sheep pasture instead of staying on the paths. No doubt he thought he'd save some time that way.

His footprints ended at a hole in the ground.

It looked like a well that had been covered by boards, which in turn were hidden under half a foot of dirt, with snow on top of that. The boards had rotted over the years; probably no one had stepped in that exact spot in at least two generations. That was all academic to Thora.

"Hiccup!" she called. When she got no answer, she called him again. This time, she heard a groan from far below.

"Are you all right?" she shouted.

"My brain hurts," he called back.

"Stay there," she said, as though he was likely to go anywhere. "I'll... I'll do something!"

People told her afterwards that she should have gotten help. That probably would have been the sensible thing to do, but she was upset and wasn't thinking clearly. She ran back to the house, grabbed the coil of rope, lit a lantern, and ran to the hole again. Carefully, not wanting to take a fall herself, she edged out to the hole in the boards and lowered the lantern in, so she could see.

The hole was clearly man-made. A series of wooden rungs, anchored to the stone walls by iron brackets, led down into the darkness; she worried that the rungs might be as rotten as the boards on top of the hole. But she saw no other way to get down.

"I'm coming, Hiccup!" she called.

"Please be careful," he called back quietly.

She pulled away the rest of the rotten boards and carefully put her weight on the first wooden rung. It held her. She climbed down slowly, keeping two hands on each rung as she lowered herself, in case a rung broke when she rested her weight on it. She was about sixty feet underground when the rungs ended, and she had to drop to the floor of a tunnel that had been cut out of solid stone; it was a seven-foot drop, and she almost turned her ankle when she landed. Hiccup lay in a heap on the floor.

She knelt next to him. "Where does it hurt?" she asked anxiously.

"My head... my neck... I don't know how I landed," he moaned. "My metal leg is bent; it hurts like fire if I put any weight on it."

"I'm amazed you fell that far and didn't get hurt worse," she said. "Let me help you stand up." He stood, very slowly, and with several grimaces and grunts of pain. He leaned on her.

"What's your plan for getting us out of here?" he asked.

"Umm... I think it involved tying this rope around that rung up there," she said, dismayed. She'd forgotten to tie it in place before she let go of that last rung! Neither of them could jump that high.

"Okay. Does anyone else know we're here?" he wondered.

She shook her head. "I'm not doing very well at this 'rescuing' stuff, am I?"

"It's your first time; you'll get better with practice," he said, in the same tones he'd have used if she were upset over burning a roast. "Since we don't have many other options, how about if we see where this tunnel leads?"

"Okay, but... which way should we go?"

"You've got two good legs; I have to go wherever you go. So you choose," he decided.

"Uhh... that way." She pointed, and they set off, him leaning hard on her with every step. They went slowly.

"What if we meet a Whispering Death down here?" she quavered.

"Whispering Deaths make round tunnels," Hiccup reassured her. "This is more oval-shaped, and the walls are too rough." There were very few cobwebs or other signs of life. Whoever had made this tunnel, they hadn't been here in many, many years.

The tunnel stretched on and on, curving slightly as it went, so they could no longer see the spot of dim sunlight that had reached them through the access hole. If their lantern went out, they would be in utter blackness. "Please tell me that lantern isn't going to run out of oil soon," he begged her.

"I keep all our lanterns full, all the time," she answered. "I did that much right, at least."

"You do lots of things right," he said, forcing himself to smile.

"Will that be any consolation if we never get out of here?" she quavered.

"Tunnels don't run from nowhere to nowhere," he said firmly. "We'll find a way out."

On they went. They had no sense of how much distance they'd covered, or how long they'd been down here. He was getting tired from the strain of being unable to use one leg, and she was getting tired from the effort of supporting him.

The tunnel turned slightly, and suddenly opened into a chamber almost twenty feet across. The walls were covered with Vikings' names, roughly carved into the stone walls. Carved in the ceiling was a map, and more runes.

"Hiccup, we can't stop – we need to keep going before we fall down from exhaustion!" she protested.

"That's a good reason to stop – we need to rest a little," he said, distracted by what he was seeing. "This is a map of Berk... but look at it! There are two towns on the island, not just one!"

"That one is our town," she nodded, pointing, "but that other one... that must be in the forest somewhere."

"There aren't any extra towns on the island," he said firmly. "Even if they'd somehow stayed hidden from us for all these years, we would have seen it from the air once we started flying with dragons. This map must be ancient." He squinted. "I can't read those runes. Can you?"

She shook her head. "I recognize the letters, but the words are gibberish. What about all those names on the walls?"

"Graffiti," he said dismissively. He bent over to read one name, accompanied by a hand-drawn face peering over a wall. " 'Kilthor was here.' This tunnel might be as old as Berk itself. I've never heard my father mention a secret tunnel, or a second town."

"We can find out about all that when we get out of here," she argued. "Hiccup, this place is making me nervous. Can we please keep going?"

"All right," he said reluctantly. They continued on their way until, about an hour later, they came to a dead end.

Hiccup pounded it with his fist. "It's wood, and it's as rotten as the boards I fell through."

"Stand aside," she told him. "I'll throw myself through it, and you can follow me once I've made a hole."

"Don't!" he ordered, holding her back. "I mean, please don't. You don't know what's on the other side. Just lie on the floor and kick the boards out – you'll be safer that way."

"That's not nearly as dramatic," she fussed, but she did what he suggested. Half a minute later, when she had kicked a decent-sized hole through the wood, she was glad she'd done it his way.

The wooden wall turned out to be a very, very old door that was set into the cliff walls that lined Berk's harbor. It had been camouflaged with rocks so that it had never been noticed by anyone. If she had thrown herself through it, she would have fallen about sixty feet into the icy waters of the bay.

They broke away the rest of the door, and shouted and waved until someone on the docks noticed them. Someone at ground level tried to organize a rescue party with rope slings to bring them up to safety, but while those Vikings were getting their act together, Fishlegs and another Gronckle rider buzzed down and whisked Hiccup and Thora up to the top of the cliffs. Once there, they had to endure a tongue-lashing from both Gobber and Stoick about their irresponsibility before they were even allowed to talk. Once they described what they'd seen, that changed the mood considerably.

"I'll get Gothi," Gobber decided. Hiccup sat in the snow to wait for them – he couldn't stand up any longer. When the smith returned with the ancient wise woman, they told her about the tunnel and the chamber. She nodded and began drawing pictures in the snow. Gobber translated for her.

"What you've found is proof of an old story I was once taught. When Vikings landed on Berk seven generations ago, they started two towns here. One was a fishing village near the harbor, and the other was a farming village inland. The idea was that the two villages would trade food with each other, so nobody would go hungry or get tired of eating the same thing all the time.

"Then the dragons came. No one could ever know which village they'd attack until the first fireballs struck, and there weren't enough warriors to defend both villages. They tried sending men up the paths from one village to the other, but the dragons got wise to that trick, and sent Nadders to guard the paths and flame anyone who tried to reinforce the village that was under attack. So, at huge expense in time and effort, they built that tunnel to connect the two villages. It was a fast way to get men from one place to another, and it was also a safe place for the young, the old, and the weak to hide during an attack.

"After the first generation, farming lost its appeal, and everyone in the farming village gradually migrated to the fishing village. The farms were overgrown and returned to the forest; once anything useful had been stripped from the buildings, they were abandoned, and Berk became a one-village island. People forgot about the tunnel because they had no more use for it.

"So congratulations, Hiccup and Thora. You've found a piece of our history that was right under our feet all our lives, and we never knew it was there."

"Speaking of feet, can somebody give Hiccup a ride home?" Thora demanded. "He needs a new leg, and we both need some rest."

"Gobber can take care of making the leg," Stoick decided. "Gothi will follow you home and check Hiccup out to make sure he's okay. As for me... I'll help my son get home, but after that, I'll want a lantern and some rope. I'd like to explore that tunnel."

"It's a good thing we went in the direction you chose," Hiccup said to his wife later. "I would have gone the other way, and that would have led us out to the forest, in the middle of nowhere.

"You're better at this 'rescuing' stuff than you realized."


	34. Chapter 34

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 34

Winter was ending at last. The icy seas were starting to melt, but that was not a placid process. The ice broke up with loud cracks, and the floating chunks ground constantly against each other and against the shore. The endless noise became a background sound effect, a constant accompaniment to whatever was going on in Berk.

Someone had the bright idea of using the dragons to speed up the melting of the ice in the harbor. The great creatures were restless for something to shoot at, and this project let them take all the target practice they wanted. Monstrous Nightmares carved up the larger sheets of ice with their clinging fires; Deadly Nadders sliced the chunks into smaller pieces with their superheated spikes of flame; and the Gronckles blasted the chunks into crushed ice with their fire-bombs. Even the Terrible Terrors got into the act; they didn't accomplish much, but it seemed to make them happy and it kept them out of trouble.

The harbormaster took a team of men to examine the docks for ice damage; as usual, there was plenty. The sailors cleared the last of the snow off their ships and checked them for any repairs they might need to make them seaworthy for another fishing season. The whole village shook off its slow-motion winter attitude and began bracing itself for the all-too-short season when they could catch food in abundance.

For Hiccup, all this activity meant extra-long hours in the forge, cranking out nails, bolts, turnbuckles, and other small parts as fast as he could make them. Gobber took on the big jobs and the special projects, leaving his apprentice to mass-produce the small items that were just as necessary for the town's survival, if not more so. It was endless, boring work; he sometimes struggled to keep his mind on what he was doing.

Thora was just as busy. She was determined to put some more weight on Hiccup, but to do that, she needed more than just meat. Vegetables were an important part of Meathead cooking, and Berk grew very few of those. She decided to change that.

Finding seeds was the easy part; she'd brought pouches full of them back from her parents' home when she and Hiccup returned from her homeland. The hard part was preparing the garden, as any gardener knows. She had to clear a patch of land of rocks, stumps, and – worst of all – _weeds_. Anything that could survive on Berk had to be strong and tenacious, and the weeds were no exception.

She was tenacious, too, and she made steady progress. She planted a mixture of vegetables, but the ones that got special attention were the onions. Those were a main ingredient for a traditional Meathead meal that she desperately wanted to cook for Hiccup. It consisted of thin-sliced beef with cheese and onions on a long bread roll. Her mother called it a "filling cheese-steak," and she knew Hiccup would love it. The growing season in the Northland was short, so she had to time the planting just right. Then it would be months before she could harvest anything, so she had to be patient.

She was beginning to feel wrong, in a familiar kind of way. It was too early to be sure, but she had a feeling it would soon be time to visit Gothi again. How would she break the news to Hiccup this time? That thought made her smile.

Thanks to the dragons, the harbor was ice-free long before the seas beyond were safe for navigation. The sailors used that time to launch their ships, let the wooden hulls swell, and fix any leaks they found. By the time the ocean was ready for their fishing fleet, the fleet was ready, too.

It was a happy day when the ships came back with the first catch of the year. Stoick and the other town leaders made a solemn offering to Aegir and Thor, as tradition required; then they forgot about the gods and prepared a feast. The hungry days were over for another year. When the first Meathead trading ship arrived eight days later, their joy was complete.

Seven nights after that, the Outcasts came.

"Raiders!" The night watchman's cry rang across the sleeping village of Berk, transforming it in moments into a hive of almost-panicked activity.

Everyone knew the drill, even though they hadn't had to fight for their town since the war with the Meatheads ended. Men (and many women) leaped out of bed, grabbed weapons and shields off their pegs on the wall, and rushed into the streets. If they didn't see any obvious enemies, they ran either to the Mead Hall to get their orders, or to the harbor because that was the most likely place to find a foe.

Hiccup and Thora clambered out of bed and fumbled for their outer clothes. "We've got to hurry if I'm going to get Toothless into the air in time," he exclaimed.

"Hiccup, there's no time for that – the raiders are already here!" she shot back. "If we're going to do Berk any good, we need to get into the action _now!_" She grabbed her spear and shield, which she'd hoped she would never have to use again.

"Me in the action isn't going to do Berk any good at all," he said as they ran out the door. He had his shield and his dagger, all seven inches of it. "Maybe I should head for the forge and help with the weapons?"

"Do what you have to do," she said over her shoulder. "I'll be in the battle line." He almost tried to talk her out of it. But how could he? She was a Meathead – she was a fighter at heart! Could he be so selfish as to deprive Berk of a warrior in the middle of a raid, just for his own benefit? He ran as fast as he could toward the forge.

Gobber was busily slapping old spearheads onto the handles of brooms and rakes, and nailing them in place. Some of the town's younger teens, including Astrid's brother Varinn, were helping by removing the handles from the brooms and rakes, and passing him the handles as fast as he could use them. "We're all set for manpower here, Hiccup. Take an armful o' spears an' get 'em down to the battle where they're needed! I'll be there in a minute or so." Hiccup nodded, dropped his shield to free both his hands, grabbed about a dozen spears, and half-carried, half-dragged them toward the harbor.

The battle was being fought at long range, like the beginnings of most Viking battles. In the darkness, it was hard to see exactly what was happening, but it looked like the Outcasts and Berk's fighters had formed lines facing each other. Every few seconds, the invaders would run forward, loose a volley of spears, and fall back again. That was Berk's cue to launch their own spears. It was nearly impossible to follow the flight of a spear in the dark, so no one knew if they were aiming well; scoring a hit was mostly a matter of luck. This would probably continue until one side ran low on spears, at which time they would either charge or retreat.

There was a gaping hole in the middle of Berk's line, where two or three men had dropped out with wounds. Thora was trying to fill that hole by herself. "You've got good timing!" she shouted as she grabbed three spears in her left hand and prepared to throw one. The nearby warriors helped themselves to the other weapons Hiccup had brought.

"Here comes a volley!" someone shouted. Berk's fighters threw their spears toward where the enemy probably was, then lifted their shields to guard their heads and chests, and hoped for the best. Over to the left, a man screamed as a spear hit him in the leg.

Another spear hit Hiccup squarely in the head.

It hit the metal band across the top of his helmet, and struck sparks when it bounced off. There was no question that his helmet saved his life that night. But the sheer force of the impact knocked him flat and half-senseless.

"Hiccup!" Thora exclaimed, and turned to help him stand. "Get out of here – you must have left your shield behind at the forge! You can't –"

Then she cried out sharply, slumped to her knees, and fell to the ground, with an ugly black spear in her back.

Hiccup was still dizzy from the blow that had knocked him down; it took him a few seconds to realize what he was seeing. "No!" he shouted, and bent over her. "I'll take you to Gothi! She can help you! Come on – let me help you up! _Please, get up!_"

"Too late," she gasped. "Hiccup...

"I...

"love..."

and that was all.

"NO-O-O-O!" he screamed, but his scream faded into choking sobs. He fell to his knees on the ground next to her, clinging to her.

He completely forgot there was a battle raging around him. Afterward, he had no recollection of the fighting at all. He never realized how Astrid and Gobber had closed ranks in front of him, guarding him with their shields, fending off every spear that flew his way.

Nothing and no one disturbed Hiccup as he wept hopelessly over the girl he hadn't wanted to marry.


	35. Chapter 35

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 35

Berk's victory was complete. At Stoick's orders, they had launched two quick volleys of spears, then charged, and routed the raiders. The Outcasts left behind thirteen dead and six badly wounded, along with many weapons and shields they dropped in their haste to get back to their ships. The catapults had managed to sink one of those ships as it retreated. At least half of the ones who got away were wounded to some extent. It would be a year or more before the Outcasts could even think of raiding anyone again.

Berk's losses were minimal by comparison – ten wounded, three of them seriously, and one dead.

Among the Berk warriors who had scored personal triumphs was Snotlout, who had killed his first enemy in single combat. He was fiercely exultant; Spitelout and the twins couldn't say enough good things about him. His victim was a short but muscular man who swung a mace and chain, and wore a large quiver that was half-full of ugly black spears.

As the sun came up, everyone who wasn't badly wounded had gathered around Stoick. "Shall I start arranging the victory celebration for tonight?" Spitelout asked eagerly. His son would be one of the party's heroes.

Stoick gazed at his own son, who was still clinging to the body of his wife about sixty feet away. The black dragon had lay down next to them and was letting out distressed little crooning sounds. For the first time in his life, the huge Viking chief knew exactly what his son was going through. "There will be no celebration tonight," he said slowly.

"But, Stoick! We _won!_" Spitelout argued. "All the people will expect us to celebrate!"

"I _said,_ there will be _no_ celebration tonight," the chief growled. "We will be merry some other day." He slowly walked over to Hiccup; the crowd parted to let him through, but didn't follow. He rested a hand gently on his son's shoulder.

"My son... I'm so sorry. This is my doing."

"No, Dad." Hiccup looked up at him through reddened eyes. "She was wonderful. Thank you for finding her for me. I wouldn't trade..." He broke down and turned away again.

The other teens were gathered nearby. "Not a very Viking-like performance, if you ask me," Tuffnut said disgustedly.

"Nobody asked you!" Astrid snapped, and stormed away.

Even Snotlout sensed that this wasn't the time or the place. "There's a time to talk, and there's a time to shut up! Learn the difference!" He also strode away.

"Ignore him," Ruff said to her brother. "He's just trying to agree with Astrid."

**o**

Megadeth and his family were returning to their house after lunch when they saw something unexpected. Toothless and Hiccup were standing in front of their house, waiting for them. They ran to meet him, but something in his expression brought them up short.

"What's wrong?" Megadeth asked.

"Where's Thora?" Alfdis asked at the same time.

"Sir, ma'am, Alfdis, I'm sorry," he sighed heavily. "I have very bad news. I don't know how to say this..."

"We're Vikings. Just say it," Megadeth snapped, and rested one hand on his wife's shoulder and the other on his daughter's.

"Thora..." He took a deep breath, let it out, and stared at the ground. "She's gone."

Her mother didn't understand. "Where did she go?"

Megadeth understood. He'd been a rough, tough Viking all his life; he'd seen people suffer and die in battle; he thought nothing could shake him. He was wrong. "How did she die?" he asked quietly.

"In battle," Hiccup answered. "The Outcasts tried to raid us. She took a spear that was meant for me. She was very brave..." His tears spilled over and he tried to hide his face in his hands. "She was wonderful! Oh, gods, I miss her!"

Alfdis began to cry. All four of them wrapped their arms around each other in a group hug. Somehow, they found some strength there.

"Can we come to Berk, and visit her barrow?" her mother asked slowly.

"She won't have a barrow," Hiccup sniffed. "She's getting a funeral ship. She's the first Berk woman in three generations to receive that honor. I came here to ask if one or two of you would want to ride Toothless back to Berk with me tonight and... and watch her ship sail away."

After a few seconds, Megadeth nodded. "Yes," he said, very quietly. "I think I should go."

"I don't think I could bear to watch," his wife quavered.

"Me, neither," Alfdis agreed. Megadeth nodded again.

"I can bring you back home tonight, well before midnight," Hiccup suggested.

"That would be good," his father-in-law agreed. "Should we get going?" Hiccup nodded. He helped Megadeth climb onto the saddle behind him, and Toothless leaped into the afternoon sky.

The big man stared down at the sea below them. "Did she like to fly with you?" he asked at last.

"She didn't like heights," Hiccup replied, "but I think she was getting used to it."

After another long silence, the Meathead asked, "Did you love her?"

"Yes, sir, I did," the younger man answered. "I told her so, and I tried to show it." He took a deep breath. "Her last words were to tell me she loved me, too." Megadeth saw Hiccup's shoulders shaking, and asked no more questions.

**o**

The sun was setting as the final preparations were made. Nearly everyone in Berk had come down to the docks where the ship was moored, to pay their last respects to its one passenger. There were few dry eyes in the town. The members of the two families were the last in line, with Hiccup the last of all.

He waited for Megadeth to step off the ship. They clasped hands briefly before the older man walked a short distance away. He carefully climbed aboard – the deck was slick with a fluid that would burn easily – and gazed on his wife one last time. She was lying on a bier just ahead of the mast, holding her spear and shield like a shieldmaiden should. He stood there in silence.

"There's nothing left for me to say to you," he finally murmured. "I left nothing unsaid while you were with me. You brought me love and joy and contentment I'd never imagined... if I could go back and do it all over again, knowing it would end like this, I'd do it in a heartbeat." He bent down to kiss her one more time. He stood... and then bent down once more. With shaking hands, he removed the pins that held her hair up, and spread it down across her shoulders.

"I'll always remember you that way," he whispered. "I hope I see you in eternity some day..." Then the tears spilled over, and he made his way off the ship and up the harbor ramps, blinking hard all the way.

Stoick gave the order. Two of Berk's sailors raised the sail and untied the mooring lines, and the little ship began to drift away from land. It was customary for the deceased's closest male relative to throw a torch onto the deck and light the fire. Hiccup should have been given that honor, but he had left. No one else had a torch.

Up on the cliffs, Hiccup whispered in Toothless' ear. The dragon looked confused, so he whispered again. Toothless seemed resistant to the idea. "Please, bud. It won't hurt her. Do it for me," Hiccup pleaded. Slowly, the dragon turned to face the ship, took a breath, and shot out a small blue fireball. It struck the deck near the stern, and in moments, the whole ship was alight.

Hiccup stood and watched as it slowly sailed away. He realized that his father was standing on his right side, and Megadeth on his left. Both rested their huge hands on his shoulders.

"She earned a place in Valhalla," Stoick said quietly.

So quietly that he could barely be heard, Hiccup answered, "She earned a place here, too."

They watched until the ship was gone.


	36. Chapter 36

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 36

If the Vikings had known about zombies, they would have agreed that Hiccup fit that mold perfectly for the next two or three weeks. But the Norse version of the undead, the _draugr,_ was a much more active and energetic creature. That wasn't Hiccup at all.

All the joy had gone out of his life. He met his responsibilities mechanically, without emotion. He fed Thora's flock of Terrible Terrors, out of a sense of obligation to the town, but even their comical antics couldn't make him smile. It was impossible to hold a conversation with him; he answered in grunts and monosyllables, if at all. When he wasn't at work, he stayed alone in his house, politely declining every invitation to join others for a meal.

Worse, his work in the forge began to suffer. He had learned to be a careful craftsman, but now he was making mistakes he hadn't made in years. Work was ruined; tools were damaged; he suffered one minor injury after another. When he burned his forearm against a hot axe blade he'd been mending for Astrid, Gobber had had enough.

"What in the Nine Worlds is _wrong _with ye, lad?" he demanded as he bandaged the wound. "I know ye miss yer wife, but is she worth killin' yerself over?"

"I'm so tired," Hiccup sighed. "I can't sleep anymore. I doze off quickly, but I keep waking up. I'm so used to..." He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to.

That evening, Astrid made a decision. In the past, she had made some decisions, like inventing Yak-nog or spreading explosive dragon eggs all over the village, which caused her father to wonder out loud if she was using only half her brain to think with; but _this_ decision set a new record for half-Astrid thinking. Looking back, it was probably the stupidest thing she'd ever done in her entire life. But it seemed like a good idea at the time.

She went upstairs to bed like she always did. Once the house was quiet, she changed into an outfit she almost never wore; she wasn't even sure it still fit her. It was a simple, unadorned leather skirt, with a plain knit top and leggings. There was nothing hard or pointy on it. She crept downstairs and slipped out of the house. Berk was dark and quiet, but she carefully sneaked from building to building; she didn't want the night watchman to see her.

Her plan was half-formed and, to be honest, half-baked. She didn't consider any possible implications or complications, or the fact that she was breaking nearly every rule in the book. All she intended was to keep Hiccup company in his bed so he could get a good night's sleep that night.

His door swung inward easily. She tiptoed in, closed the door behind her, and found the bed by the glow of the fire pit. Hiccup's breathing was slow and even; he was asleep, for now. She slipped her boots off, took a deep breath, and eased herself under the covers.

He didn't stir. She realized she'd been holding her breath, and slowly exhaled. _So far, so good, _she thought.

After a few minutes, he rolled over. His hand came to rest on her hip for a moment. Then he pulled himself close to her and wrapped his arm around her waist. She held her breath again. Surely he'd wake up now! Her waist couldn't feel like Thora's; her hair probably smelled different; she was rigid and tense. _What if he wants to do more than just sleep? _she wondered, for the first time. But his breathing stayed slow and steady. She forced herself to relax.

Ironically, it was one of the worst night's sleeps that Astrid had ever known. She'd never shared a bed with anyone since she was a baby; she hadn't even hugged soft toys as a child because they made her feel crowded in bed. Now she was more crowded than she'd ever been, and she barely slept a wink. But she accomplished her goal. Hiccup stayed asleep the entire night, and was still sound asleep as the sun rose the next morning.

That was when she found the biggest flaw in her plan. She hadn't made any provision for her own escape! If she broke away from his embrace, she'd probably wake him, and if she waited until he woke up... he'd find her in bed with him. She really didn't want to wake him, but the consequences of him knowing she'd been with him all night might be even worse.

She was on the verge of making a break for it anyway when, to her horror, the door quietly swung open, and someone stuck his head inside.

He was big. He was tall. He was turning purple with rage at the sight of her in bed with his son.

As smoothly as she could in her state of panic, she swung out of bed and grabbed her boots. "Heh heh... I was just leaving," she said. For a moment, he didn't move, and she feared he'd trap her in the house for an extremely unpleasant confrontation. But at that moment, Hiccup woke up and glanced at the scene in front of him.

"Dad? Astrid? What's going on?" he asked sleepily. Stoick took a step toward him, and Astrid ducked under the chief's arm and ran out the door barefoot. She didn't stop to put her boots on until she was at least a hundred feet away.

"What's going on?!" Stoick roared. "_You _tell _me _what's going on, young man!"

"I don't know," Hiccup answered, confused. "I woke up, you were coming in, Astrid was going out... did the two of you stop by to check on me, or something?"

"Are you going to try and tell me you _didn't know _she was here?" his father growled.

"I saw her the same time I saw you," Hiccup protested. "What are you so angry about?"

"Get dressed, Hiccup," Stoick ordered. "We're going to get to the bottom of this."

As soon as Hiccup was dressed, Stoick marched him out the door and down the path to Astrid's home. The five Hoffersons were in the kitchen, preparing breakfast like they always did. Stoick gestured at Varinn and Rangi and growled, "Gunnarr, Edda, please find some other place for those two boys to spend the morning."

"What's going on, Stoick?" Gunnarr wondered nervously.

"We need to have a two-family talk," the chief said, in a voice that reminded Edda of a volcano about to erupt. "_Now!_" Edda glanced at Hiccup, who shrugged and shook his head – he was as mystified as they were. Astrid was suddenly fascinated by something on the wall, and didn't look at anyone. Edda sent the boys outside to cut and stack firewood, with a firm warning not to come back into the house until they were called. The five of them sat around the fire, looking at each other in confusion.

"This morning," Stoick began, trying to keep his voice level, "I went down to Hiccup's house to find out if he had slept at all, just as I've been doing for days. When I opened the door, I found _her _in the bed with him!" He pointed a beefy finger at Astrid without looking at her.

Astrid's parents looked stunned. She prayed desperately that the earth would open up and swallow her. Hiccup just looked confused.

"Astrid... is that true?" her father asked.

"We didn't do anything!" she burst out. "I just –"

"You expect us to _believe_ that?!" Stoick erupted. "You took advantage of a grieving young man's loneliness to... to..."

"Stoick, I mean no disrespect," Edda cut in, "but are you sure the young man had nothing to do with it?"

The chief was on the verge of roaring at her when Hiccup spoke. "Dad, it's true! We didn't do anything! I didn't even know she was there! I was sound asleep all night, for the first time in weeks!"

"How convenient," Gunnarr snapped. "You stayed asleep at the time when you _could_ have exonerated our daughter!"

"You're blaming _him?!_" Stoick exploded.

"It would have been more incriminating if I'd been awake," Hiccup observed.

"Everyone, just _hold_ it!" Edda shouted, and stood up for emphasis. "Before we sling any more blame around, let's get the facts, shall we?" Everyone nodded with varying amounts of enthusiasm. She sat down.

"Astrid, tell the truth. Did you spend the night with Hiccup?"

She hung her head and nodded. "Yes," she said miserably.

"That settles that," Stoick rumbled, and began to stand.

"No, it doesn't," Edda shot back. "Please sit down. Astrid, did you... do anything you should not have done?"

"No, Mama, we didn't," Astrid answered. "Hiccup is telling the truth – he was asleep the whole time!" Hiccup nodded in agreement.

"Give us one good reason we ought to believe you!" the chief demanded. "Two young people caught in bed together, and you expect us to believe you did nothing but _sleep?_"

"I was fully dressed when you found me," she answered timidly. "Doesn't that count for something?"

"Not much," Stoick replied.

"Astrid," her father asked, "why did you do it?"

"I just wanted to help Hiccup get some sleep," she said, staring at the floor again. "He needed it! He's gotten so used to someone warm next to him all night... I just thought..."

"That's your first untruth," Gunnarr answered her. "You didn't _think _at all!"

"Hiccup," Edda said, "tell us your side of this."

"I did," he said defensively. "I went to bed last night, and the next thing I knew, it was morning, and Dad was in my house, and Astrid was leaving. That's all I know."

"Someone is lying here," Stoick growled.

"Either they're both lying, or they're both telling the truth," Edda responded. "I know my daughter pretty well, and I don't think she's lying."

"I _thought _I knew my daughter, and I don't know _what _to believe," Gunnarr said, throwing up his hands in frustration. "Astrid, we didn't raise you to pull stupid stunts like this! What was going through your mind, if anything?"

"I just wanted to help." She was almost whimpering.

Stoick pointed to Hiccup and Astrid. "You two may leave now. We'll discuss this and make some kind of a decision." They left, glad to escape the intense confrontation. They caught Rangi trying to listen through a knothole in the wall.

"I don't know what you did, sister," he said maliciously, "but it sounds like you really did a good job of it."

"Go sit on a Nadder spike, you little troll," Astrid answered. She tried to sound angry, but her heart wasn't in it. Her little brother scampered away, amazed that she hadn't tried to hit him.

"What's going to happen in there?" she asked Hiccup.

"Astrid... did you _really_ spend the night with me?" he asked, his eyes boring holes into her.

"I heard how you needed to get some sleep, but you weren't used to sleeping alone any more, and I just thought... oh, it's _all _gone wrong now!" She looked away. "What are they going to do to me?"

"Whether they believe us or not, your reputation is toast," Hiccup said sadly. "You'll be marked with shame by the village, maybe for the rest of your life. You'll be disqualified from all public events, and you'll be shunned by everyone in town. If Mogadon finds out, he'll break your engagement with Thuggory for sure; you won't be good enough for a chief's son any more.

"He might even kill you.

"But, if it means anything, thank you for thinking of me."


	37. Chapter 37

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 37

After what seemed like hours, the door opened. Stoick stepped out and motioned for Hiccup to go with him. They returned to the chief's house. Gunnarr gestured sharply at Astrid, who walked back inside, inwardly cringing the whole time.

"Sit down," he ordered her. Okay, this was going to be bad.

"We just don't know what to think," he began.

"Dad, have I ever lied to you when it's important?" she burst out. "Mama, can't you tell that I'm telling the truth?"

"Your actions are speaking a lot louder than your words," he said firmly. "There's no question you spent the night with a boy who isn't your husband. To the average Viking, that means only one thing, and you're living in a town full of average Vikings. You can protest your innocence, but you can't possibly prove it. Whether _we _believe you or not, doesn't matter at this point. When word of this leaks out – and it will, if it hasn't already – no one will _ever _believe you did nothing but sleep." He looked away in frustration. "Congratulations, young lady. You've brought shame on yourself and your whole family."

"Why am _I_ getting all the blame?" she demanded. "Doesn't it take two to be guilty of... that stuff?"

"There are three reasons why," Edda said sadly. "One, there's always been a double standard. Boys are almost expected to try to get away with stuff like that, but Odin help the girl who gets caught at it. Two, he's the chief's son, and no one is going to gossip about him because of what his father could do. Three, everyone knows he's grieving for his wife; no one would _ever _believe he'd run to someone else's arms this soon after losing her. If you _wanted _to make yourself a lightning rod for the whole town's disapproval, you couldn't have done a better job."

"Okay, so I'm shamed. What does that mean?"

"It means you have no friends," her father began, counting on his fingers. "It means your mother and I can talk to you only when you're in the house. It means no one can sit with you in the Mead Hall. It means you can't take part in Snoggletog, or Thawfest, or Bork Week, or any of our other celebrations. But that won't even matter after a few days. Once Mogadon finds out about you... that's when it gets really bad."

"How would he find out?" Astrid challenged him. "He lives on another island."

"His sailors come here every two weeks on trading ships," Gunnarr explained patiently. "As soon as they land and unload their cargo, they head for the Mead Hall for drinks, company, and any gossip they can pick up. There's _no way_ they won't hear about what you've done.

"Once that happens, it will take them two days to get home and tell Mogadon. He'll probably need a day to get himself organized and get a ship ready. Then it will take him two more days to get here." He took a deep breath to steady himself. "That gives you five days, Astrid."

"Five days for what?" she asked.

"Five days until he kills you for what you've done," Edda sobbed, and buried her face in her hands. "Oh, Astrid, how _could _you?"

Astrid turned to her father, who sadly shook his head. "I can't protect you from a chief's wounded sense of honor. You're engaged to his son; he'll take your action as a personal insult to him and his family." He looked away, shook his head again, and whispered, "I can't protect you."

Word of her disgrace spread quickly. Her actual transgression was quickly magnified into a morass of rumors that got nastier with each passing hour.

"I heard she got Hiccup drunk first."  
"That's nothing! I heard she used a _seið-kona_'s love potion on him."  
"_I _heard she disguised herself with Thora's clothing in the night to fool him."  
"I heard, from a _very _reliable source, that she's carrying his child."

Everyone believed the worst about her. No one would make eye contact with her as she walked around town. They all turned their backs to her in the Mead Hall, and closed ranks to keep her from sitting with them.

She dropped by the Dragon Training Academy late that morning. The twins rubbed their fingers at her and chanted, "Shame! Shame!" Snotlout leered at her and muttered something about her poor taste in bedmates. Fishlegs sadly turned away. She didn't try to stay.

She visited the forge that afternoon. Hiccup carefully kept his eyes on the door hinge he was making, and whispered, "I'm not allowed to talk to you, Astrid. I'm sorry. I really am." That hurt her the worst of all. She went for a walk in the woods to think.

Was there any way she could turn this situation around? If Mogadon broke her engagement to Thuggory, that would actually be good. The dying part, on the other hand... not so good.

She'd faced death before, fighting dragons and defending her town against raids. She was willing to die for a good reason if she had to; that's how warriors got to Valhalla, right? She didn't want to die for the sake of a bad decision that didn't even hurt anyone.

Even if she found some way to stay alive, was a life of shame worth living? How could she exist in a town that was literally turning its back on her? She might as well join the Outcasts! No... _that _wasn't happening. She could guess how those brutes would treat a pretty young girl with no family members willing to protect her.

She was too young to die! She wasn't even eighteen yet! She hadn't won any battle honors, or taken any plunder, or vanquished a notable enemy, or done much of anything, really.

She sat on a fallen tree, clutched her knees, and let the tears fall. She didn't sob out loud – that would be unworthy of a warrior. She wept for all her dreams that would never come true, and for all her plans that would never be accomplished now, and for Hiccup, who would be left with no one at all who loved him.

The next few days were awful. She hadn't realized how much she depended on other people until they all stopped having anything to do with her. The cooks wouldn't even serve her at the Mead Hall; she had to eat whatever she could find at home. Her mother prepared a few meals in advance, but she had to keep busy spinning yarn for the Meathead trade agreement, and didn't have a lot of extra time to cook extra meals. None of the tradesmen would wait on Astrid; she had to bring one of her younger brothers with her on errands, and coach him in exactly what to say before sending him into the shop while she waited outside.

On the fourth day, her stress level began rising. It was possible that Mogadon had sailed for Berk the day he learned about her disgrace, and he might arrive as early as today. Every time a ship appeared on the horizon, her blood ran cold. None of them were Meatheads, and none of them brought death to her. The strain was intolerable.

After an improvised supper of dried fish and stale bread, she decided she _had _to talk to someone other than her parents, and there was only one other person on the whole island who might even be willing to share a few words with her. He wasn't home that evening, and Toothless was nowhere to be found, either. She knew where they were. Stormfly knew the way.

She found them in the cove, sitting next to a camp fire. Hiccup was cooking chunks of fish and some of last year's vegetables, impaled on a thin metal stake over the fire. She slowly walked over and sat on the opposite side of the fire.

After a few seconds, she asked, "What are you cooking?"

"I'm not supposed to talk to you," he said quietly.

"I know," she nodded. "What are you cooking?"

"It's a simple little meal I learned from Thora," he said after a moment, keeping his eyes on the fire, "except I'm trying it with fish instead of meat. I call it 'fish kabobs.' Do you want some?"

"Will there be enough for you if I do?" she asked.

"I'm not eating much these days," he said dismissively. "It'll be ready in a few minutes."

She tried to conceal her hunger. "I'd be glad to try some. Thanks." After a moment, she added, "It might be my last meal."

He looked up at her and nodded slowly. "Yeah. My dad's been talking to me about that. He told me to stay out of it, whatever happens. I guess he thinks that'll be easy for me to do."

"Hiccup, please, don't endanger yourself," she pleaded. "I'm not worth it."

"Says who?" he demanded, leaning forward. "You can't make a call like that! You have no idea how much good you've done, or how many lives you've touched."

"Name one," she said flatly.

"Well, _me,_" he began. "This is for your ears only, but... what you did the other night was pretty stupid, but it's the only good night's sleep I've gotten in weeks."

She snorted. "For my ears only? Are you worried that I'm going to talk? I'll be dead in a day or two, and all these dreadful secrets you're telling me will die with me."

Wordlessly, he got up, walked around the fire, and stood next to her. She rose and looked in his eyes for a moment. They embraced tightly. It was not a lovers' embrace, but the prolonged hug of two close friends who are parting forever. She made sure to keep her skirt spikes from impaling his legs. She felt moisture on her neck.

"Hiccup, are you crying?"

"We could have been so many things for each other!" he sobbed. "Friends, lovers, comrades in arms, husband and wife... What did I do to deserve a life this cruel?"

"Promise me something, Hiccup," she whispered. "Promise me you'll be strong after I'm gone."

He clung to her tighter. "Being strong is easier when there's someone beside you. I'm running out of people who will stand by me. Everyone I love gets killed."

After a few minutes, he quietly said, "You once said that we could fly away and live somewhere else, like a couple of nobodies."

She slowly shook her head. "That was a bad idea. Running away from your problems never solved anything."

He took a deep breath. "You also suggested that we... well, we're alone in this cove, just the two of us, and we'll never have another chance to do the things we dreamed of doing with each other."

Again she shook her head. "We've had a couple of chances to do that, and both times, we managed to behave ourselves. Why ruin our perfect record? Hiccup, why are you saying these things?"

He pulled away so he could look her in the eye. "Because, when I remember you, I want to remember the Astrid who didn't try to take the easy way out. I want to remember you the way you really are."

_He thinks I'm strong,_ she thought. _He's very close to wrong_. She pulled him close again and held him tightly, and refused to let him go until her arms were too tired to cling to him any longer.

They held hands for a moment, looking in each other's eyes. Then Hiccup remembered – his supper was still cooking! He glanced down, expecting to see charred bits of fish and vegetables on a glowing-hot spike.

He saw nothing over the fire at all.

"Hey, where did our supper go?" he asked, bewildered. They both looked all around. They found the bare spike next to Stormfly, who was licking her lips.

"Well, I guess it was good," Astrid shrugged.

He was grieving for his wife and suffering from lack of sleep. She was under shame and a death sentence. Both of them were stressed to the limits of endurance, and their nerves were stretched as tight as bowstrings. Something had to give.

Hiccup began to laugh. It wasn't that funny, but he couldn't help himself. She started to giggle as well, and soon both of them were literally rolling on the ground, laughing uncontrollably. They could not stop until they were gasping for breath.

They wound up lying on their backs, about a foot apart, looking up at the cloudy night sky, trying to catch their breath. Toothless and Stormfly were giving them a puzzled look.

"That was unexpected," Hiccup said suddenly. Astrid didn't reply. He rolled over to look at her.

"I was just thinking," she said thoughtfully, "if I could laugh like that when Mogadon swings his sword, it would take all the fun out of him executing me."

"Astrid," he said quietly, "you are _not _going to die. I don't know how I'm going to arrange it, but you mean too much to me, in too many ways, to let something stupid like a mad Viking chief come between us."

"He's a lot bigger than you are," she reminded him as she got to her feet, "and I don't think Toothless can help this time."

"If I have anything to say about it at all, then I _promise _you, you'll have the last laugh," Hiccup vowed.

"How do you plan to pull that off?" she wondered. "And don't say you'll do something stupid or something crazy – you've already done those things."

"In that case, I'll come up with something totally insane. But you should get home. Your mother will worry where you've been, and if you have to tell her you've been out here alone with me... you're in enough trouble already."

"What's she going to do – kill me?" Astrid shot back. "She'll have to wait in line. But I _should _get back before it gets too late. Hiccup... thank you for talking to me when no one else will."

"You know about me and rules. I never could follow the stupid ones," he answered. "Go home and get some sleep." _There's no sense in both of us being_ _exhausted tomorrow,_ he thought.

The next morning, after yet another poor night's sleep, he was roused by a knock at his door. It was his father. "The Meathead trading ship is pulling into the harbor," Stoick said, "and Mogadon's pennant is flying from the mast. He's here."


	38. Chapter 38

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 38

"_You'll always have my shoulder when you cry.  
"I'll never let go, never say goodbye.  
"You know,  
"You can count on me like 1, 2, 3. I'll be there.  
"And I know when I need it,  
"I can count on you like 4, 3, 2. You'll be there,  
" 'Cause that's what friends are supposed to do."_

_(from "Count On Me" by Bruno Mars)_

**o**

Mogadon was the first to step off the ship. Stoick paused at the top of the ramps before going down to meet him. "Hiccup, I think you should stay out of this."

"Dad, when this whole Meathead thing started, you brought me along so I could learn how chiefs treat each other. I still have a lot to learn about that."

"Son... it's not about trading beef for wool this time. Someone is going to get hurt."

"I know that, Dad," Hiccup said quietly. They walked down to the harbor together.

Stoick shifted gears as he descended the ramps, and was in full-bluster mode by the time he got to the docks. "Mogadon!" he bellowed. "Welcome back to Berk! This is an unexpected pleasure!"

"Stoick, it's good to see you again!" the Meathead chief roared back. "But I'm afraid this is not a pleasure trip! There is something important that I have to discuss with you!"

"Then come up to the Mead Hall!" Stoick boomed. "We'll share an ale, and we'll talk!"

As they approached the Hall, Mogadon glanced down at Hiccup and said, "Stoick, this is a private matter."

"My son is learning what it means to be a chief," Stoick answered firmly. "He wants to learn from both of us, and he knows how to keep his mouth shut. I'm willing for him to hear this."

"He may regret it," Mogadon rumbled. The two men plucked some empty steins from a wall rack, filled them from a wooden keg, and sat with Hiccup in a corner, away from the handful of tradesmen who were taking a late breakfast.

"First," the Meathead began, "I should say I'm sorry to hear about your wife's passing, Hiccup. I heard that she died like a true Meathead."

"She died like a true Viking, sir," Hiccup answered, forcing himself to keep his voice steady. "Her final words were... an expression of regard for her closest comrades-in-arms."

"A noble end," Mogadon nodded. "But the reason for my visit is not so noble. I have heard some vile rumors about my son's fiancée and her behavior. Is it true that she has shamed herself?"

"That is what the village believes," Stoick answered, with an unhappy nod.

"A girl like that is not fit to marry my son," Mogadon growled. "You realize what this means, of course?"

"I hope it means you will end the engagement and stop there," Stoick replied.

"Out of the question!" the Meathead roared, startling the other people in the Hall. "Her actions are a slap in my son's face, and an insult like that can be answered only with blood. Don't try to protect a shamed girl, Stoick, or you'll only shame yourself as well. If you value our treaty, you'll bring the girl to me and stay out of the way."

"Slaughtering teen-age girls is not part of our treaty." Stoick was beginning to lose his temper.

"The treaty hangs by a thread, Stoick, now that the marriage that sealed it is over. Don't provoke me any further!"

"Sir, that's not true!" Hiccup cut in. "The treaty is in force as long as _either _of us is still alive, and I'm still very much alive. In a way, Thora still lives as well, here," and he tapped his forehead, then his chest, "and here."

"Noble sentiments," Mogadon nodded sourly, "which have nothing to do with the case. This Astrid girl was on the verge of becoming kin to me. Her disgrace is my disgrace, and my son's disgrace. My family honor and my tribe's honor _demand _that she pay the full price for shaming us."

"I believe she has done nothing worthy of death," Stoick said unhappily. "If there was any legal way that I could protect her from you, I would."

"But there isn't," Mogadon shot back, savoring his impending victory. "So you can't. Bring her!"

Hiccup's face suddenly came alive. "Dad, there _is _a way!" he exclaimed.

"Stoick, I think you should forget your son's chief lessons, and focus on his basic manners," Mogadon commented, then dug some wax out of his ear with a pinky finger.

"Sir, this won't take long," Hiccup said earnestly. "Dad, you have _got _to hear me out! _Please!_"

Stoick thought for a moment, then nodded. They walked a few steps away, and the Berk chief bent down so his son could whisper in his ear. What he heard made him snap upright again.

"Son, did that spear to your head scramble your thinking? It hasn't even been a month since you lost your wife! And I'll have to take a stand right alongside you, even if it means..."

"Dad, aren't you the one who taught me that being a chief means you do whatever it takes, for the good of your people?"

"This isn't a game you're playing, Hiccup. You can't start down that road and then back out later."

"I know that, Dad. We'll talk about the details later, but I'm sure about this."

"Very well." Stoick turned to Mogadon. "I have to go meet with the girl's father. We will bring her as soon as we find her. You have the freedom of my village, but we'll look for you here."

Mogadon thought about that. "This is good ale. I'll stay here."

"We wouldn't want him to miss out on some good drinking time just before he murders my best friend, now, _would _we?" Hiccup said to his father as they left.

It took over half an hour before Stoick and Hiccup returned, along with a grim Gunnarr Hofferson and a very disheveled, red-eyed Astrid. Stoick and Hiccup had spent most of that time in private conversation with Gunnarr, and in tracking down the girl who was at the center of this whole fiasco. She didn't feel nearly as brave as she had thought she would; months of stress over losing Hiccup, and days of mortal tension, had taken their toll. They'd tried to tell her about Hiccup's plan, but she kept saying, "Please don't talk! Don't say anything!" She was in terrible distress, and she thought it would be easier to handle these final moments in silence. She stared at the floor because the wall was too far away.

Mogadon put down his stein and wiped his mouth on his sleeve when he saw them. "Is this the girl?" he demanded.

Gunnarr Hofferson nodded. "This is my daughter, who is engaged to marry your son."

"Not any more, she isn't," Mogadon smiled fiercely. "That engagement is broken, as of right now. I will not be guilty of slaying a family member, even if it isn't official yet. Now, Stoick, how do you handle these things? In the killing ring? In front of her house? In an open field?"

"We have not handled 'these things' in at least three generations here," Stoick said angrily. "I suppose an open field would be best. But before you go any further, I should warn you that this girl is under my family's protection."

Astrid looked up at him, startled. Mogadon was irritated. "She's no kin of yours, Stoick! You couldn't have adopted her in the past half-hour – her father just admitted she's _his _daughter!"

"The moment you broke her engagement to your son, Hiccup's contingency plan went into effect," Stoick answered, with a touch of pride and the barest hint of a smile. "Her father and I clasped hands on the deal in advance. Astrid is now engaged to marry _my _son. Think twice before you shed one drop of her blood."

Astrid looked baffled. Her mental state could be described as "in total turmoil." The chief was trying to protect her in some way; she understood that much, but the rest of his words didn't register.

"What kind of trickery is this?" Mogadon demanded. "Are you denying me my right to revenge?"

"I'm denying you nothing," Stoick said evenly. "I am only telling you that, if you kill my future daughter-in-law, that will be the end of our treaty as far as I'm concerned, and I think my successor will feel the same way. Are you ready to plunge us into another round of war?"

"This is an outrage!" the Meathead roared, slamming his empty stein on the table. "It's a cheap trick to save a girl who isn't even worth saving!"

"Sir, you're invited to the wedding, so you can see if it's a trick or not," Hiccup interjected, "and as for whether she's worth saving... you don't know her."

"I know she's disgraced!" Mogadon bellowed. "What kind of chief would betroth his son to a shamed girl?"

Stoick's eyes narrowed, and his voice dropped to a deadly growl as his hand dropped to the hammer that hung from his belt. "If you are questioning my fitness to be chief, then maybe you should meet _me _in an open field! Would an _einvigi _suit you?"

Mogadon had had a few steins of ale and was feeling bellicose, but he hadn't lost his senses; he knew who would win an encounter like that. "I didn't come here to fight a duel with you, Stoick."

"No, you came here to run a sword through a helpless girl," Stoick rumbled, still furious. "How high a price are you willing to pay for that kind of 'fun?' A duel? A raid? A feud between our tribes that goes on for generations? Make your choice, Mogadon!"

Silence hung over the Mead Hall for the time it takes to draw two breaths.

"I can see that you've made _your _choice – shame over honor!" Mogadon burst out, bellowing as though he were still on the docks. "It will be a cold day in Muspelheim when I set foot on _this _disgraceful little island again!" He stormed out and returned to his ship without another word.

Astrid turned to her father, still completely confused. "Dad... what just happened?"

Gunnarr flung both arms around her and hugged her tightly. "Your life just got saved," he whispered hoarsely, "and you traded away a good fiancée in exchange for a better one." He was close to tears. "Hiccup, Stoick... how can I ever thank you?"

"Wait... wait... this doesn't make sense!" She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. "Are you saying I'm... still engaged? To be married? Even though I'm shamed?"

"Someone here doesn't seem to care about that," Stoick smiled. "There will probably be complications down the road, but for now, congratulations. Gunnarr, you and I need to finish discussing the details of the marriage contract." Both men left the Hall together. That left Hiccup and Astrid standing in the corner.

"Didn't I promise you that I wouldn't let you die?" Hiccup grinned.

"Yes," she said hesitantly.

"You don't sound happy about it." Hiccup looked hurt.

"I'm... stunned," she said. "A minute ago, the Meatheads' chief was going to run a sword through me. Now, I think _you're_ going to hand me a sword with a ring on the end... but why? Aren't I still under disgrace? Don't you still miss Thora?"

"Very much," he answered. "I've got more emotions, pulling me in more different directions, than I can put into words.

"All I know for sure is, I'd pay _any _price not to lose you."

Slowly, her mental fog began to lift. Somehow, Hiccup had done it. He'd found a way to save her life.

Wait a minute... _engaged?_

Engaged to _Hiccup?!_

Astrid was not a fainter, but she suddenly had to sit down. The events of the past few days were catching up with her. Hiccup sat next to her, looking worried. She was still under disgrace, but he wasn't ashamed to be seen with her, or to hold her hand, or to ask if she was okay.

It might take her a while to sort everything out, but she realized one thing: for the first time in nearly a year, she was trying to process some _good _news.

**o**

___A/N This story just became my second-most-popular, having drawn more favorites, follows, and reviews than "Did Anybody See That?" I find this astonishing, seeing how this is such an unconventional story. I hope that you, the readers, aren't sorry that you've gone on this journey with me, and I hope you'll find the end of the journey (which is still a few chapters away) even more satisfying than the beginning and the middle._

___- Cke1st_


	39. Chapter 39

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 39

"Son, the first question I have to ask you is, do you still have feelings for that girl?"

They were sitting on benches by the fire pit in Stoick's house. Hiccup almost felt like a stranger there; he hadn't been to his old house in months, except for the morning a few days ago when his father firmly explained how he had to treat a shamed girl. Now, out of the blue, he was engaged to _marry _that shamed girl, and his father wanted another talk with him.

"Dad, I'm honestly not sure how I feel. I gave my heart to Thora – _all _of it. I hadn't thought about Astrid in that way in a very long time, and I'm still not sure how I feel about her.

"I know she's a warrior that this town can't afford to lose, and I know she hasn't done anything she deserves to die for. I'm willing to make a sacrifice to save someone like that.

"I also know she's the closest human friend I've got. When we rode together on our dragons to save those sailors, it was like nothing had ever changed between us. I don't know if we can pick up our relationship where we left off, like we did with our friendship, but I'm willing to find out.

"I know one other thing, Dad. _She _never stopped loving _me,_ even when I had to stop loving _her_. Maybe that wasn't the best thing she could have done, but it means something to me."

Stoick nodded. "I hope you're right, for your sake, son. You've saved her life; I know the Hoffersons are grateful beyond words, and you never stop impressing me with the ideas you come up with on short notice. But there may be a very heavy price to pay for what you've done."

"What price is that, Dad?"

They were interrupted by a solid knock at the door. It was Spitelout. He looked very excited.

"Stoick, is it _true _that you've betrothed your son to that shamed girl?"

"Hiccup is engaged to marry Astrid daughter of Gunnarr, yes," the chief nodded.

Spitelout grinned wickedly. "_Thank _you for that, Stoick! That's the best news I've heard in _years!_ My son is going to _love _this!" He shut the door and left before Stoick could respond.

"Dad, that little exchange went right over my head. What's he talking about?"

"He's talking about the price you'll pay for marrying Astrid," the chief said somberly. "By marrying a girl who's shamed, you'll jeopardize your own claim to become the chief some day. Someone like Snotlout will be able to say he's better qualified because there's no shame on _his _family, and a lot of people here will agree with him. Your only recourse would be to challenge him, and... you and I both know how that fight would turn out."

"That would stink, Dad," Hiccup nodded slowly. "I still think she's worth it. Let me think about this."

The town's gossip mill was running in overdrive by now. The tradesmen who had overheard the confrontation between Stoick and Mogadon had wasted no time in spreading their story, and stories with a mix of romance and scandal always spread the fastest. Everyone assumed that Stoick was the prime mover behind this latest development in Hiccup's life, because fathers _always_ arrange these things, right? The idea that Hiccup had taken a hand in his own destiny failed to register with most of Berk's citizens. All they wanted to know was, _why _had Stoick arranged another marriage for his son so quickly after the first one had ended; _why _had he chosen a commoner from their own village instead of using Hiccup to seal another treaty with another tribe; and _why _under the _sun_ had he betrothed his boy to a girl who was _shamed?_

The rumor that she was carrying Hiccup's child began to gain strength. It made sense; it was the only scenario they could think of that answered all their questions. The town's righteous women didn't just ignore Astrid anymore; some of them started throwing garbage at her as she passed by, as long as Stoick wasn't around. She couldn't even spend any time with her father at the butcher shop. Customers would leave when they saw her, and that was bad for Dad's business.

She got no such treatment in her own home, of course. Her house became her refuge. Meals were still difficult, but her mother was always willing to talk while she worked her spinning wheel. They did a _lot_ of talking – it was just about the only thing Astrid could do anymore.

"How can I show the town I didn't do all those awful things?" she asked.

"Rumor is the invisible killer," her mother answered. "No one has ever found a cure for it, or a defense against it. Even if you found some kind of proof that you're innocent, some people will still choose to believe the lie, because it tickles their ears. A girl's reputation is a fragile thing. Mending it after it's damaged is like putting a broken pane of glass back together."

Astrid stared at the wall some more. "I can't say you never warned me."

Edda shook her head. "I know you meant well, Astrid, but they say the road to the underworld is paved with good intentions. I really don't have any good advice for you, aside from the obvious stuff like 'don't do it again.' You're really made a mess for yourself."

"Is there any good news, Mama?"

"You mean, aside from being engaged to Hiccup? The other good news is, that stupid story about you being pregnant will die on its own. As the months go by and your belly stays flat, everyone will see _that_ rumor for the lie that it is."

_She really does believe me!_ That was a huge load off Astrid's mind. "Okay, let's try a more pleasant subject. I hate the idea of waiting until my wedding day to find out how to make my husband happy. Can you give me any good ideas in advance?"

"Why?" Edda wondered. "Have you got a husband I don't know about? Why do you need to know about those things now?"

"It's not that I need to know now, Mama, but... I know I'll have to make a lot of changes once I get married, and it'll be less of a shock if I can see a few of those changes coming."

"You're right about changes," Edda said firmly. The spinning wheel slowed to a stop. "Hiccup has already been down that road; he's had to make those changes to merge his life with Thora's, and now he's going to have to do it again with you.

"It's important for you to realize that he isn't the Hiccup you grew up with. He isn't going to revert to the way he was before Thora came along. He'll change for you if he loves you, but you have to tread lightly in the demands you make on him. There are some things he might have given you in the past that he's no longer able to give you now."

"What do you mean, 'if' he loves me? Of course he does!" _Doesn't he?_

"Don't assume too much, Astrid. He really loved his wife. That _has_ to have an effect on how he feels about you now. Maybe the two of you can pick up where you left off, but it's more likely he'll have to back away a few steps and figure out where he stands with you. Don't rush at him and assume that nothing has changed, because a lot has changed."

"Like what?"

"For starters, you'll do well if you let _him_ be the man in the family. You tend to take over and make decisions for people if you can. With you and Hiccup, that worked well in the past, because he wasn't a strong decision-maker. He's different now. He's been married to a traditional girl who let him run the show, and while he still isn't as strong-willed as you are, he _wants_ to be a _man_. You'll have to fight your urge to call the shots, and sit back and wait a moment for him to do it. I suspect he'll be much happier that way, and if he's happy, you'll be happy."

"Well, how can I find out for sure? I know I can't spend time alone with him now that we're engaged."

Edda started spinning her yarn again, smiling slowly. "I assume you're staying here for lunch?"

"Of course, Mama – I've got no place else to go! You know that."

"Good," her mother grinned. "I've invited a guest over for lunch."

**o**

Hiccup tapped at the door around noontime, and waited for Edda to say, "Come in!" He smiled when he saw her, and his face lit up when he realized Astrid was there, too. Then he sniffed the air.

"Mrs. Hofferson, do I smell fish sticks?" His voice was almost reverent.

"You do," she chuckled. "They're almost ready. Have a seat." He pulled up a bench near the fire. Astrid sat near him, but not too near.

"Thank you for inviting me over," he said to Edda. "I've kind of been wrapped up in myself for a while."

"You're welcome," she nodded, declining to mention this was at least the fourth time in a month that she'd invited him.

She served lunch, and the conversation lagged as everyone dug in. Astrid had somehow never noticed how Hiccup attacked her mother's Haddock Delights; now she watched, mildly amused, as he tore into them with a zeal he never showed for the meals in the Mead Hall. She was hungry herself, but he acted ravenous. He even asked for seconds, and was careful to praise Edda's cooking several times.

When the meal was done, they sat down around the fire again. "When two people from the same tribe get engaged, the parents will sometimes arrange a get-together like this so you can start getting to know each other," Edda began. "You two already know each other pretty well, though. Maybe better than you _should,_" she added sharply, with a glance at Astrid. "But this is your chance to talk to each other without breaking any rules. I'll be doing chores around the house, trying not to eavesdrop. I'd suggest that you be open and completely honest with each other." She rose and began cleaning the dishes.

"Haven't we always been open and honest with each other?" Hiccup asked.

"Sometimes we dance around each other with words," she answered.

"Uh-huh," he nodded, "but not usually." She nodded, and they looked at the fire for a few seconds.

"So," he said. "We're finally engaged."

"Yup," she agreed.

"It's what we always wanted, right?"

"Mm-hmm."

"So... why does it feel so _weird?_ Why aren't we doing a happy dance or something?"

"I can't think of any good reasons," Astrid said thoughtfully, "aside from the fact that you're still mourning for your wife, and I'm being shunned by the whole town, and you're exhausted from lack of sleep, and I just barely escaped from a death sentence that's still, technically, hanging over me."

"Well, yeah, there are a _few_ little details like those," he nodded. "Still, I hoped we'd be happier than this."

"Were you happy during your first engagement?" she asked.

"Of course not! You know how miserable I was."

"Maybe engagement isn't supposed to be a happy time," she wondered. "Maybe the happy part comes once we're married."

"I don't know if I agree with that," Hiccup replied. "I was unhappy the first time because I didn't know who I was marrying, but I did know who I was giving up. This time, I'm not giving anybody up! This is my lifetime dream come true! I'm going to marry _you!_"

Suddenly he slid right next to her, his face full of wonder. "I'm going to marry _you,_" he said softly.

"You're just realizing this?" she chuckled.

"It's just beginning to sink in," he said. "I've been so tied up in what my life used to be, and what was going to happen to you, I was only thinking about the 'engaged' part, not the 'married' part... I liked that little laugh you just did. I went for almost a year without hearing you laugh. Would you smile for me?"

She let herself smile a little. He grinned back, and suddenly looked away. She had flashbacks of all the times when they were younger, and she would catch him staring at her when he thought she wasn't looking, and he would blush and look away. She smiled more broadly at the memories.

Edda glanced over her shoulder. She hadn't heard much of their conversation over the sounds of scraping plates, but now she saw them sitting together and smiling. There was bound to be some awkwardness between them, after all they'd been through, but it looked like they were going to be okay.

After all they'd been through, they _deserved_ a little happiness.


	40. Chapter 40

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 40

The next morning, Toothless could tell there was a difference in Hiccup. He was dressed and out the door after only two roars and stomps on the roof, instead of the four or five it had taken recently. He actually smiled when Toothless butted him in the chest, instead of getting irritated, and once they were in the air, it was like old times again. He shouted and whooped with delight at every wild maneuver; he even dared his big black friend to swoop closer to the ocean on his next dive.

In the distance, he saw another dragon soaring on the air currents. It was probably a Nadder, and while it was hard to be sure at this distance, it looked like it carried a rider. He knew who that probably was. He recalled an encounter just like this one, about a year ago; it seemed like much longer than that. This time, when Toothless turned to close in on the other dragon, he found himself looking forward to it.

"Astrid! It's a beautiful day for a ride!" he shouted.

"It's a beautiful day for a _race!_" she shouted back.

"Have you been feeding Stormfly chicken again?" he grinned.

"You haven't been giving Toothless enough exercise," she called. "He's slow and out of shape. You don't have a chance!"

"That sounds like a challenge," he said to Toothless. To Astrid, he shouted, "I'll race you to the Lookout Pine!"

"Deal!" she yelled, and Stormfly took off before they'd lined up for a fair start.

He lay flat in the saddle to reduce his wind resistance, and held on tight. "Did you hear _that,_ bud? She thinks you're slowing down!" Toothless snorted indignantly and shot forward like only a Night Fury can. Stormfly had a huge head start in their two-mile sprint, but even so, Toothless would have caught her if the race had been just a hundred feet longer.

Astrid was pumping her fists over her head. "Yes! Finally! We beat you at last!"

"That's only because you cheated at the start," Hiccup called.

"You men and your egos! You just can't stand to lose!" He didn't have to ask her to smile now; her smile was warm and genuine, and it wasn't just because she'd won. Both of them were beginning – just beginning – to feel like themselves again.

"What is it about riding our dragons that brings out the best in us?" she wondered as they glided side-by-side back to the village.

"They level the playing field," he suggested. "Up here, there's no shame, I can't feel exhausted, and we're completely free to do anything we're capable of doing." He looked around, enjoying the view. "I'm wondering if maybe we should get married in the air instead of on the ground."

"That might be a lot of fun," she commented. "Stepping over the threshold might be a problem."

"Yeah, you're right," he sighed. "I guess we'll have to be traditional."

"Hiccup, can I ask you something?" She'd suddenly turned serious.

"Of course."

"Is it going to be weird for you... getting married a second time?"

He thought about that. "Going through the ceremony a second time in barely a year... yeah, that's going to feel a little strange. But being married to you, and working out our relationship? No, I don't think that'll be weird at all."

"Because you've been looking forward to it for so long?" she wondered.

"No, because you're so different from her. I can't see me thinking, 'Here we go again,' because... well, you're not her. You're you. I've never married _you_ before."

"Okay," she nodded. "Can I ask you something else? Does it bother you that you're engaged to a shamed girl?"

He shook his head dismissively. "You were willing to talk to me on the day I got disowned and booted out of the tribe. Your position isn't even _close_ to being as bad as mine was."

Astrid nudged Stormfly so they flew even closer together. "One more question. Hiccup... do you love me?"

"Yes," he said without hesitation, "but not like I used to. Things are different. _I'm_ different. There are things about you, like your honesty and your faithfulness, that I appreciate a lot more than I used to. There are other things, like the way you walk, that aren't so important to me anymore."

"The way I..." She turned an interesting shade of red. "Hiccup, when we get on the ground, I am going to slug you so _hard!_"

"That's another thing, Astrid," he said. "No more hitting. I can't let you do that to me anymore."

"Hiccup, that's how we've related to each other ever since we got serious! It's kind of a habit with me. Is it that big a deal?"

"It is now," he nodded. "When you reach toward me, I want to look forward to it, not cringe and wonder how much it's going to hurt. It's a 'respect' thing."

"What if you really, _really_ deserve it?"

"Astrid, no one _ever _deserves to get hit," he said solemnly. His expression reminded her of that night in the cove after they'd discovered the dragons' nest, when he'd stood up to her for the first time. That time, it was about protecting Toothless; this time, he was protecting... himself? No, it went deeper than that. He was trying to protect their relationship, so she wouldn't push him away. He didn't want to be pushed away. Knowing that made her feel better, in spite of the change he was asking of her.

"Okay," she said. "But if a mysterious black-haired girl washes up on the beach with a tale of woe about escaping from pirates, and you're making a total fool of yourself over her, how do I get your attention?"

It was Hiccup's turn to blush. "Well, in that case, a flick with a finger is okay. A poke with an elbow... maybe. But fists are something you use on your enemies, not on your husband."

"I'll try to remember that," she said. "I might forget and mess up."

"I'll remind you," he smiled.

They landed outside the Academy ring, and walked with their dragons down onto the stone floor. It was crowded in there. The other teens were cleaning copious quantities of mud off their dragons' legs, tails, and bellies, and getting quite muddy themselves in the process.

"Whoa! What happened _here?_" Astrid burst out.

"Don't answer her!" Tuffnut ordered. "We're supposed to pretend she's not there, right?"

"We thought we found a perfect field for playing Bashyball," Fishlegs explained, ignoring him. "It looked great from the air, but when we landed, it turned out to be a bog."

"So why didn't you just wash your dragons on the beach, and let the waves do all the work?" Hiccup asked.

The other four looked at each other and shrugged. "I guess we didn't think of that," Fishlegs said sadly. "I don't know about them, but I've missed having you around to do the thinking."

"It's a good thing _you _weren't along for that ride," Hiccup said to Astrid. "Can you imagine how upset your Nadder would be if she got as muddy as that?" Astrid could easily imagine; she shivered.

"Oh, by the way, Hiccup, congratulations on your engagement!" Snotlout said happily. "You've handed me the keys to your father's house!"

"It might not be as simple as that, Lout," Hiccup warned him. "Don't count your dragons before they're hatched."

"What's he talking about, Hiccup?" Astrid asked, puzzled.

"It's simple," Snotlout began; the chance to gloat made him forget he was supposed to ignore her. "When we need a new chief, and the people have to pick between a _real_ Viking from an honorable line, and a guy with no muscles who married a _shamed _girl, who do you think they'll choose?"

"They'll choose the son of the chief they've got," Astrid replied hotly. "That's how Vikings do these things, remember?"

"That's how _some _Vikings do it," he nodded. "_Real _Vikings will want a _real _Viking to be their chief. If he disagrees, he'll have to challenge me for the right to be chief. That could be fun! For me, at least."

Astrid scooped up a handful of mud off the floor and heaved it at him. It hit him squarely in the chest with an audible "plop." He stared at his chest for a moment, then looked at her with a growing smile. "Oh, you want to throw dirt at me? That's okay! Once I'm done digging up dirt on you, you'll wish you'd married me when you had the chance. When I'm chief, you and your Hiccup will be _nothing _in this town! Maybe, if you're lucky, I'll hire you to be my personal servants. You can kiss my muddy boots every morning and tell me how great I am!"

"In your dreams, Snotsnout," she growled, and stalked out of the Academy with Hiccup right behind her. Once out of earshot of the others, she turned to him. "Could he really do that? Could he try to become the chief, and make you fight him, just because of me?"

"He could do that," Hiccup nodded. "Things like that have happened before. Whether he really _would _do it or not... that depends on how hard his father pushes him. It sounds like he's enjoying the idea."

She turned away from him, downcast. "Hiccup, we need to break it off between us. I won't let you throw away your future on account of me."

He gently rested his hands on her shoulder pads and turned her to face him. "Do you think, for _one cold second,_ that being chief is more important to me than you are?"

She saw the answer in his eyes.

He went on. "First, he's a lot more confident than he should be. I beat the Red Death, and I beat Mogadon; I can find a way to beat Snotlout, especially if I've got you beside me. Second, I'm used to being a nobody – I've been one for most of my life. His threat doesn't scare me much. And third, if you love me, then I do not _ever _want to hear you talk about breaking it off again. _That _scares me!"

She smiled and nodded. "You've got yourself a deal." They stood there for a few seconds, just smiling at each other.

Behind them, the other four teens were getting into an all-out mudball battle. Hiccup and Astrid didn't even notice.


	41. Chapter 41

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 41

"How are ye feelin' today, young man?" Gobber asked jovially. "The bettin' pool is fillin' up for how many times ye're going to hurt yerself at work this week. Where should I put my coppers?"

"Put them on zero, Gobber," Hiccup grinned as he tied his apron in place. "I'm not going to burn myself this week, just coal, and maybe some midnight oil."

"Oh, sleepin' better, are ye?"

"A little," Hiccup nodded. "Not great, but better. What's first on my list of things to do today?"

"Ye see that stack o' dull farmin' tools? Turn 'em into _sharp _farmin' tools."

"Sure thing, Gobber. I'm surprised you trust me with _anything _sharp, after the last couple of weeks."

"Well, let me put it to ye this way. If ye staggered in here like the walkin' dead again, I'd tie ye to yer dragon and send ye off on a three-day flight, so the rest of us would be safe. But yer lookin' and soundin' like Hiccup again, so I'll give ye a chance, and we'll see what happens."

True to his word, Hiccup went through that entire day without causing any harm to himself or the forge. He did it again the next day, and again the day after that. It looked like he had turned the corner at last. This put the gossip-mongers and the rumor-spreaders in a serious bind.

If this had happened at any other time, or to any other person, the obvious conclusion would be that his fiancée was having a good effect on him. But that would imply that Astrid was capable of something good, and the gossip-mongers weren't ready to admit that. If it wasn't her, then what could _possibly_ be the cause of Hiccup's turnaround?

They finally decided he was improving because he was no longer nervous about her bearing his child. Her flat belly should have been showing signs by now, and that was plainly not the case. It saddened them to let go of their favorite rumor, but they still kept their favorite target, and that was more important. There would be other rumors, juicier rumors, later on.

Frankly, Astrid could not have cared less. She had settled into a new routine that didn't involve the other people of the village. She rode Stormfly early in the morning, talked with her mother until after lunch, did chores and ran errands with her brothers in the afternoon, and practiced with her axe in the forest between supper and sundown. Her father came home around then, and she could visit with him for a while. And, of course, there was Hiccup. He was willing to talk to her any time now; being engaged to her overruled her shame, as far as he was concerned. If the rest of the village wanted to shun her, then as far as she was concerned, the rest of the village could rot.

The "talking with her mother" part included some basic, long-overdue lessons in the things every Viking wife needed to know. Astrid had chosen to neglect that part of her education in the past; now she realized she needed to learn that stuff, and time was running out. Cooking was just the start of it, although it would certainly be the hardest part for her. She had to learn some basic sewing, if only to mend the occasional torn clothing; she had to learn how to keep a house and its contents reasonably clean; she had to learn how to bandage cuts and burns, and how to recognize and treat the most common sicknesses in the Northland. Even something as simple as giving Hiccup's hair a trim was something she would eventually be responsible for. She seemed to have a natural aptitude for none of it; learning was hard. As the wife of a future chief, she could probably afford to pay someone to do a lot of this stuff for her. But she would rather shave her own head than admit to the other women in the village that she couldn't take care of her own husband! It was a 'pride' thing. She forced herself to learn "all this girly stuff," and made slow but steady progress.

Hiccup joined her and her mother for lunch once a week or so, which their culture considered acceptable, if perhaps a bit excessive. She also saw him in the skies almost every morning with no one else around, which was absolutely taboo. But no one ever knew; the chances of one of the other dragon riders finding them up there were slim, and no one else could possibly catch them at it. Besides, how much trouble could they get into when they were riding separate dragons? And if by some mischance they did get caught, she'd take the blame and suffer the shame, which would leave her no worse off than she already was.

The passage of time did have one positive effect: the Vikings who weren't hard-core gossip-mongers were slowly forgetting that they were supposed to be shunning her. One by one, they stopped turning their backs when she walked by. One by one, the shopkeepers saw her brothers enter their shops and called to her to come on in. One night, she had to bring a message to her father in the Mead Hall as he ate his supper, and one of the cooks waved to her and offered her a plate. Slowly, bit by bit, the village was beginning to take her back.

Why it happened, no one could really say. It might have been because she was engaged to their much-loved Hiccup, or it might have been because her simple, unpretentious ways made the lies and rumors look ridiculous. It took time, and it took even longer for her to get over the way they'd treated her. Like most Vikings, the word "forgive" wasn't in her day-to-day vocabulary. But just as the town slowly got over what she had done, so she slowly got over what they had done to her.

But not all of them. There were still a dozen or so who actively tried to keep her shame alive. Those men and women did their best to make Astrid's life uncomfortable in petty little ways. They couldn't dampen her growing joy at her impending marriage; all they could do was keep reminding her that she had broken the rules, and that some of them would never forgive or forget.

Hiccup said nothing about any of this, except to reassure Astrid that no one else's opinion had any impact on how he felt about her. But he noted who was quick to forgive her, and who was not.

How did _he_ feel about her? When she'd asked if her loved her, he'd said yes with no hesitation. But it wasn't the besotted, infatuated love that once drew him to her like a moth to a lantern. It was more than a friendly love, though, or a brother/sister love. It had elements of all of these, and more. And it was getting stronger. If his feelings for her had faded away during his marriage to Thora, they were definitely making a comeback.

That wasn't to say he was forgetting Thora, or that he never thought of her. He thought of her daily. There was scarcely a place on Berk that didn't remind him of her somehow. The idea that another girl would soon take Thora's place in his life, and in his house, and in his bed... he would have resisted that idea even harder than he'd fought the idea of marrying Thora, if the new girl had been anyone but Astrid.

He'd thought he would have to forsake all his thoughts of Thora if he was to find room in his heart again for Astrid. The truth was, his heart had grown, and he had room for memories of his late wife without short-changing his future wife at all.

One morning, he told Astrid he'd be away for most of the day. "I'd like to visit my former in-laws," he explained.

"Can't I come along?" she asked.

"I'd love to bring you," he said, "but you're still under Mogadon's death sentence. Going to his home island might not be smart. Besides, I have a bad feeling Mogadon has poisoned his people's thoughts against you. Megadeth and his family are good people, and I know they'll like you, but I think they should meet you here, not there."

"How is that going to happen?" she wondered.

"One reason I'm going there is to invite them to the wedding," he smiled. "You don't mind, do you?"

"No," she decided. "I used to think of Thora as my rival, but not now. Her family is no threat to me."

"I'm glad," he said. He held her hand and gave it a quick squeeze, which was the most he could do with her mother watching them like a hawk. "I'll be back a little after sunset. Unless they bribe me to stay later by offering me food."

"That's how they bribe you?" Astrid marveled. "You're starting to sound like a dragon or something!"

"I guess I've been hanging around with Toothless too long," he shrugged. "I'll miss you, but I feel like I need to do it this way."

**o**

Alfdis and her mother were laboring in their vegetable garden, as they usually did in the afternoon, when the older woman was startled by a shadow passing across her. She looked up quickly. "Dragon alert!" she shouted.

"Toothless alert!" her daughter corrected her.

"You're right," her mother said after a moment. "Go get your father; he's in the Mead Hall."

Hiccup waited until he saw the welcoming wave from Thora's mother before he told Toothless to land. He wasn't sure what kind of welcome he'd get, now that he was engaged to a girl that the Meatheads' chief wanted to kill. It looked like his former in-laws still liked him, though. As Toothless touched down, he saw Megadeth and Alfdis returning from town. They were all glad to see him, although Alfdis actually seemed happier to see Toothless again.

"Come on in and give us the news!" Megadeth urged him. "Dear, is there anything left from lunch? You know Hiccup and his appetite for your cooking!"

She found some beef tips that hadn't been claimed, deftly reheated them over the fire without drying them out, and served him a second lunch, which he scarfed down happily. They waited until he was done before they started plying him with questions.

"The first thing we need to know is, how are you holding up... on your own?"

"I guess I'm doing okay," he said as he licked his lips, "but I'm not as 'on my own' as I might have been."

"What do you mean?" Megadeth looked perplexed.

"Mogadon didn't tell you?"

"Didn't tell us what?" He looked even more perplexed, and Hiccup joined him in perplexity. _This could get seriously awkward, really fast_.

"Well... when your chief went to Berk on a trading ship a few months ago, did he say what happened there?"

"No, he never did," Megadeth said. "He went there for some dirty business involving his son's betrothed – she'd done something shameful, we heard – but he never said anything more about it. He just came back in a really foul mood and told us all that his son's engagement was called off, and none of us except the trading sailors were ever to go to Berk again. We thought that was odd, but none of us except the sailors go there anyway, so we didn't worry about it.

"Now, Hiccup, I can tell there's a story hidden somewhere in there, and I think you ought to tell us what's going on."

"I was right," Hiccup said, and gulped. "This is going to get seriously awkward, really fast."

They sat back and watched him. They were waiting.

"Okay, for better or worse, here's the story. The girl who was going to marry Thuggory used to be my girl friend. Her name is Astrid. I had to break up with her to marry Thora."

"Oh, so that's the connection between you!" Megadeth nodded. "Thuggory hinted that you knew his fiancée, but he didn't say how. So she shamed herself, and Mogadon went there to... that must have been doubly hard on you! First you lost Thora, and then..."

Hiccup shook his head. "Mogadon didn't kill the girl. He decided against it."

That surprised Megadeth. "He did? He was spitting mad when he found out about her! What kind of leverage did Stoick put on him to talk him out of it?"

"Okay, here's where it gets awkward," Hiccup said nervously. "What happened was, I spoke to my dad and the girl's father, and made a deal so that, at the moment Mogadon broke his son's engagement to the girl, she became engaged... to me."

That brought silence to the room.

"That couldn't have been more than a month after Thora... left us," her mother finally said.

"It was a little less than a month," Hiccup corrected her, then quickly added, "I didn't want to marry _anybody_ else! I was missing Thora so badly, I couldn't sleep, I was hurting myself in the forge, I was totally falling apart! Anyone in Berk could tell you that! But if I didn't do something, Mogadon would have killed her!"

"Don't shamed girls deserve to die?" Megadeth asked quietly.

"Not when they haven't done anything that's worthy of death!" Hiccup exclaimed.

"And what, exactly, did she do?" Megadeth demanded.

Hiccup looked heavenward. "Oh, gods, do I have to tell this whole story?"

"This sounds complicated," Alfdis chimed in.

"You have no idea how complicated it is," he nodded, grateful for the distraction.

"Young lady, go tend the garden," her mother ordered her. "You probably don't need to hear this."

Hiccup waited until she was out the door, then turned back to her parents. "There's nothing here that she shouldn't hear. What Astrid did was... she knew I couldn't sleep because I was missing Thora, and she thought I'd sleep better if there was someone else in bed with me, so..."

"She slept with you." Megadeth wasn't asking a question.

"All I _did _was sleep! I never even knew she was there!" Hiccup almost shouted. "It was a really stupid move on her part, yes, but nothing shameful happened. But try convincing the rest of the town, once they heard the rumors!"

"So you got engaged to this disgraced girl?" his former mother-in-law wondered.

"Once the engagement arrangement kicked in, Stoick put her under his family's protection, and Mogadon wouldn't risk hurting her, for fear of breaking the treaty. I knew he was angry; I wasn't sure if he'd gotten your whole island on his side, so I wasn't sure of the welcome I'd receive when I landed."

"Are you still engaged to this girl?" Megadeth asked.

"Yes, sir," Hiccup said reluctantly. "It wasn't just a dishonest trick to fool Mogadon."

"Do you think you'll be happy with her?"

"Uhh... what's the right answer to that question, sir?"

"The truth, if you please," Megadeth answered.

"Yes, sir, she makes me happy, and I think I make her happy as well."

Megadeth took a deep breath. "If I were a petty-minded man, I would be furious that you took a new engagement not even a month after my daughter died. I would use words like 'lack of respect for the dead,' and I would be very offended.

"Luckily for you, I am not a petty-minded man. I'm a Viking. Our lives are short and uncertain. If there's some happiness we can grab along the way, we don't always have the luxury of waiting for the perfect moment to sieze it.

"I like you, Hiccup. You made Thora very, very happy while you were together – I know that for a fact. That meant the world to me. I want you to be happy, even though she's gone. If this girl – what was her name, Astrid? – if she makes you happy, then I can live with that.

"Just promise me you won't forget Thora."

Hiccup leaned forward. "I can promise you that right now, sir. Her ship has sailed, so my memories of her will be her most lasting memorial."

"Hiccup, you're a good man," Megadeth nodded. "Shall we talk about something a little less intense?"

"Gladly!" Hiccup exclaimed, with an inner sigh of relief. "What's the interesting news around this island?"

**o**

When Astrid met him in the air the next morning, he smiled broadly. "I've got the solution to our problems with Snotlout."


	42. Chapter 42

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 42

Before he dealt with today's main event, Hiccup had a matter of nearly equal importance to discuss with the chief.

"Dad, this is my second wedding in barely a year. Do we _have_ to... I mean, does the wedding night have to have witnesses again?"

"Son, you know the law. The town has to be sure that their future chief and his wife are capable of raising up children for their family line." _Even though it embarrasses the bejeebers out of the bride, the groom, and all of the witnesses, especially the groom's father,_ he thought. _After last time, I don't know if I have any bejeebers left to embarrass_.

"I guess I already knew that," Hiccup nodded grimly. "Who chooses the witnesses?"

"The village chief does," Stoick replied. "I try to pick a few relatives, a few leading citizens of the town, and one or two who have no connection at all with either family. Viking law says there must be at least six witnesses. The exact number is traditional within each tribe; we've always chosen twelve, with at least one completely impartial one."

"Okay," Hiccup said. "Then I'd like to ask you a favor. If you can arrange it, I'd like these men to be witnesses..." He recited some familiar names.

"All right," Stoick nodded. "All of those men are qualified to be witnesses, and I have no objection. But if you don't mind my asking, why _them?_"

"I have my reasons, and they'll become clear on the wedding night. Thanks, Dad."

"Hiccup, before you go, how are your preparations for your wedding coming along?"

"It's a lot easier this time, Dad. I've already got my house, I already know my traditions and my family line, and I've already made a set of wedding rings before, so I know what I'm doing. The sword is about half-done; I haven't decided how to decorate it, but it'll be ready, no matter what."

"That's good, son. How are _you _doing as you prepare for all this?"

"A lot better than the first time, Dad. I still think about Thora now and then but... this time, I'm looking forward to it."

"Good."

_That went well,_ Hiccup thought as he walked away. _Now it's time for the real confrontation. _His destination: Snotlout's house_._

Spitelout answered the door. Hiccup took a deep breath. "Sir, if you have a few minutes, I'd like to talk to you and Snotlout about something that might interest you very much."

The bigger man scowled. "Snotlout is out flying with his dragon. I have no idea when he'll be back, and when he does return, I'll probably be busy in town."

"Then could I talk to you? You're the one who will have to make a decision based on what I'm going to say."

Spitelout was on his guard. He knew about Hiccup's unbelievable luck in tense situations. He didn't want to get outmaneuvered by this frail-looking boy who somehow managed to land on his feet – uhh, foot, no matter what life threw at him. But he didn't want to admit any weakness in front of the boy, either. That could come back to haunt him when his son made his play for the chieftainship at Hiccup's expense. "All right, I've got a few minutes. Come in."

They sat around the fire, and Hiccup began. "I've learned that Snotlout wants to be the next chief of this island."

_Well, that's a very Viking-like way to start a difficult conversation_, Spitelout thought. "He may have some hopes in that direction," he said.

"I've learned something that might interest him, and you, very much," Hiccup went on.

"And what is your price for this information?" Spitelout asked warily.

"No charge," Hiccup smiled. "There's an island to the south of us, about eight days' sailing away. The tribe that lives there calls themselves the Purple People-Beaters. They live almost entirely on raids and piracy."

"I know them," Spitelout growled. "Their helmets have only one horn, and their ships have purple sails. They cruise into our waters every few years and cause us all kinds of trouble."

"They're classic Vikings all the way," Hiccup nodded. "While visiting some friends among the Meatheads, I picked up some interesting information. It seems that their chief is ready to retire, after taking one too many hits on the head, and he's looking for a successor."

"Go on," Spitelout said.

"The problem, for him, is that he has no sons, only daughters. If he can't find a suitable son-in-law soon, he'll have to throw the chieftainship open to any challenger, and you know what that means."

Spitelout nodded. "It means bloody single combat among every young man within fifty miles who wants to be a chief. Duel after duel, with the losers going home if they're able to walk, and the winners moving on to the next duel, until only one is left. That one is so battered and beaten, his own mother could probably outfight him, but he's won the right to become the chief. If you think I'd ever let Snotlout take part in a competition like that, think again. He's good in a fight, but even he knows the odds would be against him."

"Yes," Hiccup nodded, "but what if Snotlout married the chief's oldest daughter, who happens to still be single, and became the ranking son-in-law? There would be no duels, and he'd become the chief of his own tribe, the easy way."

"An interesting thought," Spitelout agreed, "but there's bound to be all kinds of competition for that position as well. There could be a dozen or more young men sailing for that island right now, ready to convince the chief that they're the perfect son-in-law and successor."

"True," Hiccup smiled, "but he looks and acts like the Viking ideal, he's got a chief's brother paying the bride-price, and best of all, he'll show up riding a Monstrous Nightmare! How many of those other young men can make a claim like _that?_"

"I see your point." Spitelout considered the matter. "Of course, you're being way too obvious. This is a simple ploy to get my son out of your way so you can be the chief here someday."

"Of course it is," Hiccup nodded. "The advantage to _this_ idea is that it leaves everyone a winner."

Spitelout thought some more. "The disadvantage to this idea is that there are no guarantees that it will work. If he stays here in Berk and waits for the right moment, the chieftainship will fall into his hands like ripe fruit. There's nothing you can do about it."

"That might be true, or it might not, sir. Berk is becoming a very peaceful place. We aren't fighting the dragons anymore, we're signing treaties with our neighbors instead of raiding them... we're moving away from the Viking ideal that your family holds so dear. What's more, most of us seem to like it that way. As Snotlout gets older, he's going to find it harder and harder to fit in around here. As a Purple People-Beater, he'd be a natural. He'd be exactly the kind of chief they're looking for, and they'd be the kind of people he'd love to lead.

"Also, consider this. For some reason, people around here like me. Snotlout might challenge me and take away the chieftainship, but he probably wouldn't win the people's good will. They'd resent the fact that he took the job away from their favorite. He could give orders, but what good is that if the people don't want to obey him?"

All that was a lot for Spitelout to think about at once. "How can I know if this rumor of yours is true?" he demanded.

"The simplest way would be for you and Snotlout to fly down there on Hookfang and check it out for yourselves," Hiccup said. "If you like what you see, you and their chief could enter into marriage-contract negotiations right then and there."

"This is all very interesting," Spitelout thought out loud. "Was there anything else?"

"No, that's all I have for you," Hiccup said as he rose. "You have to admit, this could be the perfect opportunity for your son."

Spitelout nodded absently as Hiccup left. This was way too much for him to think about at once. He would have to talk to a friend or two who were better at thinking than he was.

The next morning, he and Snotlout climbed onto Hookfang and flew south. They were gone all day. Hiccup didn't see either of them again until later the following morning, when Snotlout showed up at the Dragon Training Academy while Hiccup and Astrid were chatting with Fishlegs.

"Nice try, cousin," Lout said.

"What do you mean?" Hiccup asked.

"We flew down to visit those Purple People-Beaters, and everything was exactly like you said. Their chief was looking for a successor, and he wanted a real manly Viking. Too bad he found the man he wanted, two days ago. They were celebrating the oldest daughter's engagement when we arrived. If you'd gotten that news to us three or four days ago, I'd be on my way to becoming the chief of that tribe. It would have been an awesome ploy on your part – you'd have outmaneuvered me, and made me a winner at the same time." He sighed as though he was disappointed, even though his face didn't show it. "It just wasn't meant to be."

"Maybe it's just as well," Hiccup said, trying to be philosophical about it. "I thought about you, at the helm of a tribe like that, with the secrets of dragon training... the Northland would never be the same."

"Don't worry, Hiccup. The Northland will still see what I can do at the helm of a tribe, with the secrets of dragon training. But it will be _this _tribe! All I have to do is be patient. You've already done all the work for me."

"Don't be too sure, Snotlout. I still have one more card to play."

Lout turned to Astrid with that irritating smirk of his. "One more card to play! He doesn't know a losing hand when he sees one."

"That's because he's won with every hand he's ever held," she shot back. _And now he's holding my_ _hand_. She had no idea what Hiccup was talking about, and she still feared for his future, but it was hard to be too fearful when he was so confident.

What in the Nine Worlds was he planning?


	43. Chapter 43

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 43

The big day was getting closer.

_**o**_

"Astrid, do you smell that? It's starting to burn! Take if off the fire, fast!"

Astrid grabbed two thick towels, pulled the large frying pan off the fire, and set it on the chopping block. Edda quickly scraped the Haddock Delights off. She had to work at it.

"It's hard to take them off. Did you oil the pan?"

Astrid grunted angrily and swung her fist at nothing. "I forgot the oil!"

"It's okay, you're still learning. You'll get it with practice." She blew on one to cool it off, and took a bite. "Aside from that, it came out pretty well. Here, try some."

"Mama, honestly, I'm getting _sick_ of these things. This is all we've been cooking for days!"

"For one thing, Astrid, this is what we're having for lunch, so you might as well eat it. For another thing, it's the best you've done so far, and there's nothing wrong with it. And for a third thing, if you'd been more willing to listen to me over the past few years, instead of flinging that axe around all day, we wouldn't be having this crash course in cooking now! Your wedding is just a few weeks away, and that's not the time for a bride to admit she can't cook."

Astrid sat down and glumly munched her Haddock Delight. "Honestly, Mama, I wasn't thinking about marriage over the past few years. I figured nobody would want me because I wasn't girly enough. The axe seemed like a better use of my time, so I could win in Dragon Training and do something useful for the tribe."

Edda smiled wickedly. "And where did that get you? Hiccup conquered you in Dragon Training. Now it's _your _turn to conquer _him,_ and your axe isn't going to help you this time. The first time you feed him his favorite meal and put a smile on his face, you'll taste the thrill of victory like you've never known it before."

"Is it really like a battle victory?"

"No, not even close, because battles have winners and losers," Edda explained. "When you make your husband happy, there are _two _winners and _no _losers. But it's still a thrill to know you've done something special that he appreciates. That's why I'm pushing so hard to teach you how to cook this dish. It's his favorite. If you never learn to cook anything else, the time you put into getting this one right will reward you for the rest of your life."

"If I don't get completely sick of it first, you mean."

"Once every week week or two should be fine," Edda said. "You can always eat in the Mead Hall if your cooking skills don't measure up." She rested her hand on her daughter's armored shoulder. "I know it's hard for you, but believe me, it does get easier. Once you've learned the basics, the rest is just about ingredients and timing and heating the fire. You'll probably never love cooking for its own sake, like I do; you just aren't the type. But I know you want to make Hiccup happy, and there aren't many ways that will work better for you than filling his belly with stuff that he loves."

"Mama... about those 'other ways' to make him happy... can you tell me anything about that? Anything at all?"

Edda shook her head. "You'll have to wait for the wedding day to get your facts, just like the rest of us. That's how we do these things."

"But... when I think about that kind of stuff, it makes me... nervous." Edda knew that was her daughter's way of saying, "I'm scared."

"Dear, I can't tell you anything specific, but I can tell you this. Unlike most young bridegrooms, Hiccup has done this before. He knows what to do and what to expect. He'll be gentle with you."

Astrid was still... nervous... but her mother's words helped.

**o**

"Hiccup, it's after sunset! Bank the forge an' go home fer the day!"

"I can't, Gobber. I'm running out of time to finish this sword, and you keep me too busy to work on it during the daytime."

"So what are ye goin' to do? Work on it until midnight? Will ye still be here when I come back in the mornin'?"

"No, just a few more hours. I'm polishing the finish; there aren't any shortcuts I can take if I want this metal to gleam like quicksilver."

"Are _ye _tellin' _me _how to work metal, ye insolent young pup?" Gobber threw up his hand and looked skyward. "What kind o' manners are they _teachin'_ these young people today? Fine, stay late if ye have to. But if ye're too tired to work in the mornin,' I'll be hearin' no complaints from ye! I've had my fill o' worn-out Hiccups fallin' asleep on the job!"

"Thanks, Gobber. Have a good night."

As Hiccup polished the metal to a brilliant shine, he considered the sword and its destiny. On his wedding day, he would pass it to Astrid, and it would become Hofferson family property until another family member got married, and passed it on. The Hoffersons weren't wealthy. If this sword came out as well as he hoped it would, it might be one of the finest things they'd ever owned.

He thought about Gunnarr, who had patiently answered his questions about manhood that he knew his father would be too uncomfortable to answer. He thought about Edda, and her endless store of good advice about just about everything, not to mention her wonderful cooking. He even thought about Astrid's younger brothers, twelve-year-old Varinn and nine-year-old Rangi. Varinn would probably be the next one in the family to marry. This sword would carry Varinn's wedding ring into the hands of his bride, whoever she turned out to be, just as it would soon carry his own ring into Astrid's hands.

He quit working a little before midnight, only because he'd promised Gobber he wouldn't work that late. The sword was beginning to look like the work of art he'd envisioned when he started with raw iron. He'd considered using the sword he'd received from Thora as his wedding sword – it would be a very traditional thing to do – but that didn't seem right. He wanted to give his wife something he'd made himself. He really wanted to do an excellent job on this one.

Anyone else who looked at it would say it was already excellent. But he was aiming higher.

**o**

The cooks in the Mead Hall were having a quick afternoon meeting. It was time for them to start getting organized for the wedding reception. Burpfeather, the head cook, was handing out work assignments.

"You're going to be in charge of the fish," she said, pointing at each of her cooks in turn. "You'll be over the chicken, you've got the meat, and you'll be in charge of the vegetables. Plan your dishes and gather your ingredients well in advance; there's no time on the day of the wedding to be running around, trying to find that last batch of herbs. Let me know how many assistants you'll need, by tomorrow at the latest."

"How come I get the meats?" the cook in question asked. "I thought you hated the way I cook beef and ham."

"You're no Meathead, but you're the best we've got," Burpfeather answered. "I wanted to hire a couple of Meathead cooks, but they're not allowed on our island – their chief is still mad at us. Just do your best. I'm sure no one will complain."

"I wish Thora was still with us," the cook muttered.

"Don't we all," Burpfeather said with feeling. "But if she was, we wouldn't be having this reception."

**o**

Stoick absolutely hated to call his son in for a discussion like this. But he was facing a cruel dilemma, he'd run out of ideas, and if anyone could come up with a solution on short notice, it was Hiccup. Besides, it pertained to his wedding, so he was already in the middle of it, in a way.

"Son, I spent a lot of money on your first wedding, along with the bride-price and the morning-gift. A year later, my fortunes haven't improved that much. I promised Gunnarr Hofferson an above-average bride-price and a generous morning-gift for his daughter because I thought I'd have plenty of money set aside for the reception. It turns out, I don't."

"What are you saying, Dad? Are you going to have to break the deal with Mr. Hofferson?"

"I don't know, son. As it stands, I can pay for a three-day reception, which isn't fair to you, or your bride, or the rest of the village – they'll expect at least a week's worth of celebrating for the wedding of a chief's son. If I go for a proper reception, I'll have to approach Gunnarr about altering the contract, which is a terrible thing to do to a man, especially when the wedding is barely a week away."

"And you're telling me this... why?"

"Because _you're_ the one who comes up with the amazing ideas, Hiccup! I need you to wave your fingers and say your magic words and come up with a solution for me, because if you can't, nobody can."

Hiccup nodded, and sat and thought for about a minute and a half. Then he smiled. "No problem at all, Dad. You make the reception as long as you want to. I'll pay for the morning-gift."

"Son... I know you've been saving your money, but I don't want you to drain your savings all at once. Besides, you have no idea how much I've promised Gunnarr for his daughter's morning-gift. You may not be able to afford it."

"Dad, like I said, it's no problem. You gave Thora a _very _generous morning-gift. She hardly spent any of it. When she left us..." He paused for a moment. "...everything that was hers became mine. I've still got those little chests of coins that you gave her, and they're all full, just like the day she got them. Just put all the coins in one bigger chest, in case anyone recognizes the small ones." He wiggled his fingers in the air. "Abracadabra! Problem solved."

"Son... that's very generous of you. But if I do that, I'm giving your bride a gift that didn't cost me anything. I don't feel good about that. That's not what a gift is supposed to mean."

Hiccup thought for a few more seconds, then smiled again. "Still no problem, Dad. That money is my wife's morning-gift. Astrid is going to be my wife. All you're doing is giving her what is rightfully hers. If you really feel bad about it, you can pay me back when you can afford it, but that's up to you. Deal?"

He held out his hand. Stoick looked at him, and saw a man where a boy used to be. "Deal." They clasped hands.

After Hiccup left, Stoick looked into the fire and shook his head. "That boy – I mean that young man never ceases to amaze me," he said out loud to no one. It was still hard for him to say things like that to Hiccup's face.

**o**

It was two days before the wedding. Hiccup had somehow gotten a food stain on his best tunic, which he wanted to wear when he got married. He'd entrusted it to Edda Hofferson, who promised to get the stain out, and she'd managed to do so. She carefully folded it and handed it to Astrid.

"Take this to Hiccup, and put it in his hands," she instructed her. "Then leave. _Immediately_. Got it?"

"Yes, Mama," she replied. She jogged over to his house, which would soon be her house as well... and he wasn't there. Neither was Toothless. "Put it in his hands" were her mother's orders.

She knew where to find him. Stormfly knew the way.

She found him sitting on the ground next to Toothless, staring into a campfire. Unlike last time, he wasn't cooking anything, just relaxing by the fire. He saw her land; he didn't move, but smiled and watched as she sat down on the other side of the fire.

"I brought your tunic," she said. "Mama got the stain out just fine."

"Good. Tell her I said 'thank you'," he nodded.

"I'm supposed to put it in your hands, and then leave," she went on. "Immediately."

"Okay, you have to leave as soon as you give it to me. She didn't say you had to _put it in my hands _immediately, right?"

She smiled and nodded. She just _loved_ the workings of that mind of his! She wanted to kiss him right there, but resisted the urge. She wasn't even supposed to be alone with him. They'd have plenty of time for kissing the day after tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that, and...

"What are you thinking about?" she asked him after a few seconds.

"You're going to think this is really weird," he began.

"I'm used to that from you," she said.

"When I first married Thora, wherever I went, I kept thinking I saw you out of the corner of my eye. You weren't angry. You looked sad and hurt that I could find happiness in another girl's arms. I'd shake my head, and you'd disappear, because you were never actually there, of course. After a few months, I stopped seeing you like that.

"For the past few weeks, I keep thinking I see Thora out of the corner of my eye. She isn't angry, and she isn't sad or hurt, either. I feel like she's saying, 'I wish I could be there to make you happy, but I can't, so let Astrid make you happy.' Then I shake my head and she's gone. Like I said, it's weird."

"Does her memory mean a lot to you?"

He nodded, very slowly. "She touched my life, and definitely made me happy, and she made me a better man than I was. I know I'll never forget her. But it's time for her memory to step aside and let you take your rightful place. After all, a man can have only one wife, right?"

"I don't think of her as a threat, Hiccup."

"I still think the two of you could have been friends, if it wasn't for me in the middle," he said. "But that doesn't matter now. All that matters is you." He smiled, and her heart sped up.

"Two more days," she said.

"Two more days," he nodded. "You said you have my tunic?"

"Oh, that. It's on Stormfly's back." She untied the tunic, walked back to him, and... almost kissed him anyway. _We might as well be good,_ she thought. _It's only two more days_. She handed him the tunic.

"Now I have to go," she said sadly. "Those were my orders. Put it in your hands and leave, immediately."

"Then you should do that," he said. "You want to impress me with how meek and obedient you are, right?"

"In your _dreams,_ Night Fury Boy!" she grinned. He smiled back, and his smile kept her warm all the way home.


	44. Chapter 44

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 44

_Love, look at the two of us,  
Strangers in many ways.  
Let's take a lifetime to say "I knew you well,"  
For only time will tell us so,  
And love may grow, for all we know.  
(from "For All We Know" by Carpenters)_

The big day had finally come.

Astrid had been half-led, half-dragged to Berk's bath house by a giggling pack of women, where she had been summarily stripped and thrown into a vat of steaming water mixed with herbs. She knew all the women in the crowd that surrounded her. That meant that their more, uhh, _personal_ suggestions were doubly embarrassing. Some of their suggestions were _extremely_ personal. Others were just common sense. They all sounded unnatural and difficult to her. All her skill with weapons, all her dragon-training experience, _everything_ that she was good at, wasn't going to help her a _bit_ in this new life-long endeavor.

She finally got the facts she thought she wanted, about the most private aspects of marriage. She was beginning to be sorry she asked. It all sounded so _wrong!_ How could _that_ be an expression of love? She thought about that time in the cove when she and Hiccup had nearly let their passions run away, and thought, _Is __that__ what would have happened? Now I'm glad it didn't. I think_.

"I know it all sounds strange," her mother said kindly, "but believe me, when it's just you and him, it works, and it's wonderful. Just try to relax. Remember, he knows what he's doing, and he loves you. None of us around you could have said that on _our_ wedding day."

A few hundred feet away, in the men's bath house, Hiccup was undergoing similar indignities. If anything, his ordeal was worse, because all the men knew he'd done this before and knew the facts. That meant they had nothing to do except try to outdo each other in their coarse descriptions of the private side of marriage. Could they make him blush? Yes, they could.

_My poor, sweet Astrid,_ Hiccup thought. _If there was any way at all to spare you the humiliation of a public consummation, I'd do it. I know you can distract me and make me forget about the witnesses; I don't know if I can do the same for you._

As the men piled detail on exaggerated detail, the women wrapped Astrid in some blankets and hustled her back to the guest home. There, they dried her off, brushed out her hair (which took a while), dressed her in a brand-new white gown (courtesy of her new father-in-law), and pinned the bridal crown on her head. It was woven out of wildflowers; her family wasn't wealthy enough to own a metal one.

It was beautiful anyway.

The clothing was uncomfortable because it was so _light_. She wore no spikes or shoulder pads to her wedding, and she noticed their absence. It was also strange for her to wear a dress that came down to her ankles. She had to practice walking back and forth in it, to be sure it wouldn't trip her. Getting over the threshold might be an adventure in a dress like this.

Hiccup's dressing ritual went a lot faster; all he had to do was get dried and dressed. Now he sat in the house that was his, and would soon be his and hers, and waited for the ceremony to begin.

Toothless lay on the ground just outside the door, puzzled by all this unusual activity. The most puzzling part of all was that Stormfly was resting nearby. She wasn't part of this family, was she? What was going on?

At last, his father stepped into the open doorway, flanked by Spitelout and Gobber. "It's time," Stoick said.

_The last time they said that to me, I thought it meant the death of me,_ Hiccup thought as he stood. _I'm still nervous for some reason, but Astrid means life to me, not death._

The men led him to a little-used clearing near the forest. The Norse gods played only a ceremonial role in the lives of Berk's Vikings, but when it came to important matters like launching a ship, choosing a new chief, or performing a wedding, no one was willing to shut them out completely. Today was a wedding, and a very important one. There had to be an animal sacrifice, and prayers, and invocations and ceremonies of various kinds. Hiccup never had much use for any of those rituals. He spent most of the religious ceremony gazing happily at his wife-to-be. She gazed back, oblivious to the rites and rituals, smiling and looking nervous at the same time.

Stoick, as the village chief, now took charge of the ceremony. "Present the swords," he commanded. Ruffnut, as Astrid's attendant, stepped forward, holding a long sheathed sword in both hands. Fishlegs did the same for Hiccup. Each of them drew their sword at Stoick's nod.

The sword of the Hoffersons was a fairly nice one – double-edged and quite sharp. The hilt was plain and unadorned; this was a functional weapon that had been polished up, not a decorative piece. It wasn't much to look at, but it was nothing to be ashamed of.

When Fishlegs drew the sword Hiccup had made, it drew gasps from everyone present. It was _beautiful!_ The blade was polished to a brilliant shine, as good as a metal mirror. Inlaid into both sides of the blade was an intricate Celtic knot pattern, set into the metal with shiny black on one side, a brilliant blue on the other. The pattern carried down along the hilt and the handle to the pommel, which was a good likeness of a Deadly Nadder head. It took Astrid nearly a minute to realize he'd done the inlaying with slivers of their dragons' scales. It was a masterpiece of the swordsmith's art. Even Gobber nodded in approval.

Fishlegs passed the sword to Hiccup, while Ruff gave her sword to her friend. Bride and groom held their swords straight up and down with one hand, and reached out with their other hand. Fishlegs slipped Astrid's wedding ring into the groom's open hand, as Ruff did the same for Astrid. They balanced their rings on the tips of their swords, and passed them to each other with confidence.

Each of them reached up, claimed the ring on the end of the sword they now held, and slipped it onto their left ring fingers. The rings had thin bands of color running all around them – black for his ring, blue for hers. He'd worked the dragon scales into their rings, too.

Now came a part that made both of them nervous – the exchange of vows. Hiccup had labored hard over this. He'd done the best he could for Thora's vows, and he wanted to do at least as good a job for Astrid. They turned to face each other, he took a deep breath, and began.

"We can't escape our destiny.

"You and I used to believe we were meant for each other. We were convinced that, some day, we would stand together in front of an altar and exchange our vows. But, without warning, our lives turned in different directions. I was given to someone else, and you were promised to someone else. It looked like all our thoughts of the future had been wrong.

"And then, just as suddenly, our lives turned again, in what looked like random directions. But slowly, imperceptibly, your life and my life began to line up with each other again. Against all possible odds, we now stand together in front of that altar.

"Astrid, I have loved you ever since I knew what love was. When life wouldn't let me love you as a woman, I loved you as a friend. Now I can love you in every way there is. I promise that I will honor you, respect you, guard and protect you, stand beside you no matter what, and help you become the kind of Viking wife that little girls will want to be like when they grow up.

"But most of all, I promise to never stop loving you, because that would mean I had stopped living. To me, life is love, and love is you. Astrid, I could never escape you, and I would never want to. You're my destiny."

Dead silence followed_, _except for a few women sniffling and dabbing at their eyes. Astrid's eyes were brimming, but she blinked hard a few times and regained her composure before she began to speak her own vows.

"Hiccup, I owe you my life, three times over.

"The first time was in battle against the Red Death, when you saved me from falling. The second time was when you stopped another chief from killing me for his family honor. The third time was when you gave my life meaning. We're just beginning that part of it now.

"I once thought I knew everything. You showed me I could be wrong, but you didn't resent me for it. That was my first lesson in real love. You've taught me many other lessons in what real love means, but I don't think I know enough about it yet. I'm marrying you so you can spend the rest of your life showing me what real love is all about.

"_I_ will spend the rest of _my_ life loving you, honoring you, comforting you, pleasing you, and doing everything I can to make your life wonderful. I owe you that... three times over."

Hiccup blinked hard a few times.

The entire group now marched solemnly up to the Mead Hall. Here, at the doorway, was the next challenge for bride and groom. She had to step across the threshold, with her husband's help; if she tripped in any way, it was a bad omen for their marriage. The main doors had no threshold, so they used a side door that would serve as a proper obstacle to married bliss.

She could see, as she approached it, that someone had nailed an extra-wide board across the doorway, raising the threshold to absurdly high levels. If she could step over _that,_ it would be a fine omen indeed! But she had no intention of stepping over it.

She glanced at Hiccup and they nodded. He'd told her about the plank prank their friends had played the first time, and they'd agreed on a plan of action if they had to face something similar. Sometimes it was a good thing that their friends were so predictable. She stopped and waited; he stepped over the board and entered the Hall. A few seconds later, he returned with his father's war hammer, the one they would soon lay in her lap. He wasn't strong, but he knew how to handle a hammer. With a few solid whacks on each end of the board, he knocked it loose and kicked it away. Then he extended his hand, and she took it. She daintily stepped over the actual threshold with no difficulty, and joined him inside the Hall. The crowd cheered raggedly.

They were led to the head table, where they sat and looked around them. The Hall was filled with people of all ages; the whole village was here. Hiccup wished Megadeth and his family could have been here as well, but Mogadon's embargo on travel to Berk had made that impossible. The serving tables along the sides of the Hall were piled high with food of all kinds – this was the wedding of the only son of Berk's chief, and Stoick had spent every spare copper on it. But before the food was served, there were some more rituals that had to be observed.

First, Hiccup was called to the center of the room. Astrid held her breath. He had to throw his sword so that it sank into one of the columns that held up the roof; if it bounced off, it meant bad luck for both of them. She'd seen him practicing against the timbers in the forge, and while he'd improved, it was by no means certain that he'd succeed. Besides, he was unfamiliar with the sword he held.

He drew the sword with a ringing sound, held it by the flat of the blade like a spear, and threw it. It wobbled slightly, but it hit the column point-first...

...and sank into the wood far enough to stay embedded in it. He'd made a good throw, or a lucky one. A cheer went up. All the signs pointed to good fortune for them. There were no more tests of good luck and bad luck, and that was good.

As he returned to his seat, her mother motioned to her from the kitchen. She was holding a large two-handled tankard. It was the ceremonial mead that they had to drink together. Astrid claimed the tankard, brought it to her husband, and recited the blessing from memory:

_"Ale I bring thee, thou oak-of-battle,  
"With strength blended and brightest honor;  
" 'Tis mixed with magic and mighty songs,  
"With goodly spells, wish-speeding runes."_

___He might be a young, slender oak, _she thought,___but he's still an oak__._

As she held the tankard out to him, she realized that, if their friends had repeated their prank with the threshold, they had probably put something foul in the mead aswell. He took the tankard with both hands, raised it, and sniffed it. He made a disgusted face. They both faked a drink; they'd get some real mead later.

"The two of you will drink mead together for the next thirty days," Stoick informed them, in his most formal-sounding voice. "It will help you become as one." _I don't think we'll need much help in that department, _she thought.

They were serving the food now; at last, they'd gotten to the good part of this entire ceremony! Stoick had imported the best meats that the Meatheads had to offer, alongside the best fish and poultry from his own island. The Meatheads might have embargoed travel to Berk, but they were still willing to make a little money from their trade partners if they could.

This was also the bride and groom's first chance to actually talk to each other since the start of the ceremony.

Hiccup waited until she was done chewing a mouthful, then said, "So far, so good."

"Nice workmanship with the sword," she answered.

"Thanks," he smiled, "but I'm running out of ideas. I don't know what kind of sword I'll make if I have to get married a third time."

She punched him in the arm. "_That's _for..." Her voice trailed off as he pulled away from her. She saw hurt in his eyes, and it wasn't from her fist.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I forgot. I'll really try not to do it again." She rested her hand on his shoulder, and he slowly slid back toward her. "But please don't say ridiculous things like that! You're _never _getting married again! I finally got you, and I'm going to keep you!"

"Good," he smiled, and returned to his meal. She heaved a quiet sigh of relief.

After the first course was finished, Stoick brought out his war hammer. Everyone paused to watch. This was probably the silliest part of the whole ceremony, to her way of thinking, but it could not be avoided. She pushed away from the table and sat still as her chief laid the hammer in her lap and recited another ancient verse:

_"Bring the Hammer the bride to bless:_  
_"On the maiden's lap lay ye Mjolnir;_  
_"In Vor's name then our wedlock hallow!"_

He had just invoked the gods' favor on her baby-making parts. _That might be the scariest thing of all, _she thought. _I can't see me nursing babies and changing diapers. Oh, Hiccup, the things I'll go through for you!_

The rest of the reception was uneventful, as far as the happy couple was concerned. There were songs and dances, stories and _flytings, _huge amounts of food, and (of course) copious quantities of mead, ale, beer, and some unfamiliar drinks Stoick had gotten from Trader Johann. Neither Hiccup nor Astrid had much taste for alcohol, so they did a lot of fake-drinking when a toast was offered to them, and they were the target of many, _many _toasts.

Hiccup was feeling almost giddy. They'd done it! They were married! Well, there were a few more technicalities before it was legally finalized, but those were trivial. He'd married Astrid. It was unbelievable.

Then he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. It was his father, who was followed by Spitelout, Gobber, Gunnarr Hofferson, and eight other men. "Hiccup? Astrid? It's time."

Time for their wedding night. Time for the witnesses to confirm that they were, indeed, husband and wife. Time for their most private moment to be put on public display. Astrid tried to keep a neutral expression, but her eyes said "horror" for anyone to see.

Hiccup shot her a sympathetic glance that said,___I'll take care of this. I'll take care of you._


	45. Chapter 45

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 45

_"__I have found my home here in your arms.  
"Nowhere else on earth I'd really rather be.  
"Life waits for us – share it with me!  
"The best is about to be,  
"And so much is left for us to see."  
(from "Only Yesterday" by Carpenters)_

The wedding party made its way from the Mead Hall downhill to Hiccup's house, which was now her house as well. He opened the door and gestured to her. "Welcome home," he smiled.

She looked around. He'd removed most of the evidence that a woman had ever lived here. She had a few ideas for making the place look more friendly, like weapons and shields on the wall, but tonight wasn't the time for that. It was still a pleasant place to start calling "home." Plenty of candles and lanterns lit the house nicely. The twelve witnesses filed in behind them and spread out so they all had a good view of the...

…bed.

She squirmed in spite of herself. She knew Hiccup would be kind; she knew the women at the washing were wrong when they promised eyes that burned with lust, hands that couldn't stop wandering, and lips that would speak crudities as though they were love poems. They didn't know Hiccup at all. Still, the first time was supposed to be unpleasant, and the presence of all those men staring at her would _not_ help.

She noticed, with some surprise, that all the men who still held her shame against her were among the witnesses. That was an odd coincidence, and an uncomfortable one.

She almost jumped when Hiccup laid a hand on her shoulder. "Could you sit down?" he asked quietly. "I have to take your crown off." She sat, almost mechanically, and let him remove the flowers from her hair. His hands were shaking.

"Why are you so nervous?" she whispered. "You've done this before."

"Not with you," he whispered back. He set the flower crown on the night stand and sat down next to her. With her white gown, and her thick blonde hair flowing loose across her shoulders, and her eyes looking trustingly into his, he doubted that Freyja herself could have taken his eyes off of her. He kissed her, slowly and gently. She surprised him by responding in the same way, slowly and gently.

"Is that how you like to kiss?" she asked softly.

"That's what I like," he whispered back. "I know you like a more vigorous –"

She didn't let him finish. She did, indeed, prefer a more vigorous approach to kissing – "attack" might be a better word – and she proceeded to give him a demonstration.

When she let him come up for air, he gasped, "Both techniques have their merits."

She smiled. "Let's try it your way again." They were finally free to kiss each other all they wanted, in any way they wanted, without worrying about getting caught or having to stop themselves. They were taking such delight in each other, they just weren't in any hurry to move on to the next act of their "performance." The witnesses began to get restless. Stoick quietly warned them to be patient. "Nature will take its course," he whispered.

He was right, of course. They were young and in love. She let herself get lost in his loving green eyes, and managed to forget about her surroundings. He had no performance problems this time (a fact that she noted with quiet satisfaction). Soon enough, the witnesses had seen what they came to see. Stoick nodded, and they headed for the door.

"Wait!" Hiccup suddenly exclaimed. "Don't leave so fast! There's one more thing you have to see."

Okay, now _this _was unprecedented! Most newlyweds couldn't _wait _to get rid of the witnesses. What in the world...

"Astrid, roll over for a moment." She did so, and he pulled up the sleeping fur that they'd been lying on. He held it up so all the witnesses could see it, and pointed to a small dark-red stain. "You're here to be witnesses, so witness _this_. Do you all see this?" he demanded. Astrid cringed, as did her father.

That was what they expected to see on a wedding night. They all nodded and repeated, "We are witnesses."

"You're all witnesses to the fact that she was a pure maiden until now?" he repeated.

"Yes, we are all witnesses." They were puzzled at his insistence.

"So you're _also _witnesses that she could have done _nothing _shameful or disgraceful in the past!" Hiccup challenged them. "_Right?_"

Oh, my. The gossipers hadn't reckoned on _this_. There, in front of all of them, was undeniable proof that they were wrong, _dead _wrong, totally and completely _wrong_.

Astrid threw her arms around her husband and held him. _You've proven my innocence! You've given me back my reputation! I've got the most awesome husband ever!_

Gunnarr broke into a smile. _He's taking away her shame, and our shame as well! Go, Hiccup!_

Spitelout scowled. _He outmaneuvered me anyway! Now my son has no leverage over him! How does that boy do it?_

Stoick grinned. "We are all witnesses. _Aren't_ we?!" He glared at each man until he nodded, willingly or reluctantly. "There will be no more slanderous talk about my virtuous daughter-in-law. If there is, _I_ will have something to say about it! Now, I think it's time we left." They all filed out, Stoick last of all. "Well played, Hiccup," he smiled as he closed the door.

The new husband and wife lay cuddled up together. Neither of them could stop smiling. "They took our future away," she whispered, "but we took it back."

"It's like I said," he said quietly. "You're my destiny. I was meant for you. I couldn't escape you, no matter what anyone did."

"And you never _will_ escape me," she grinned, and kissed him.

"You're darned right I won't," he smiled, wrapped her up in his arms, and kissed her back.

Just outside, a black dragon and a blue dragon were sound asleep on the ground, within a few feet of each other. Through some means unknown to humans, both of them could tell that their riders inside the house were totally happy and at peace for the first time in over a year, and that the other dragon's rider had something to do with it. Very few things relax a dragon more than knowing that their human friend is completely content. Toothless and Stormfly were very relaxed indeed_._


	46. Chapter 46

**Hiccup's Bride** Chapter 46

_"__Tomorrow may be even brighter than today,  
_"_Since I threw my sadness away,  
"Only yesterday."  
(from "Only Yesterday" by Carpenters)_

Neither of them slept very well that night, but it wasn't a bad kind of insomnia. She knew it would take her a while to get used to sharing a bed with someone, but there was no one on earth she'd rather get used to. He was just too keyed up at the realization that Astrid was finally his, and he was hers. They kept each other warm all night, just enjoying each other's presence. (Yes, if you _must _know, they enjoyed each other in many ways, but this story has a T rating. If you want a lemon, go find a lemon tree.) Even though they were a little bit uncomfortable in bed together, they couldn't stop smiling at each other.

He was on the verge of saying "Good morning" when the house shook. _RO-O-OAR!_

"Good morning to you, too, Toothless," he sighed. "Couldn't you give us just fifteen or twenty more minutes?"

Then the house lurched again, this time from the side, and they heard a higher-pitched roar. "Oh, _great!_ He's giving Stormfly ideas!" she snapped.

"I guess we'd better get dressed and go flying before they knock the house down," he shrugged.

She nodded, then stopped. "Hiccup, would you mind... looking the other way while I get dressed?"

"And miss the most beautiful sight the gods ever made?" he exclaimed. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Because I'm still a little bit... nervous," she said. "Please?"

"Okay," he nodded with a smile. "But only because I love you." He turned his back on her until she told him it was okay, then scrambled into his own clothes. She'd laid the white gown aside and returned to her usual outfit with the spiked skirt. They made it outside just after Toothless' third roar, and caught Stormfly preparing to throw herself against the wall again.

"That's enough of that, girl!" Astrid called. "I'm here, I'm here!"

"Come on down, bud!" Hiccup called. "We'll all go flying together!"

Saddling Stormfly took a lot less effort than rigging Toothless to fly, so Astrid finished first. She helped Hiccup with his dragon's flight gear so they could get into the air faster. Once they were airborne, any remaining stresses and strains from the past year dropped away like a dragon's shed scales, and they felt like children at play. The two dragons swooped, soared, and dove with wild abandon, while their riders whooped, shouted, laughed, and encouraged each other. They spiraled up into the clouds together, dove to within a few feet of the waves together, and spun together so rapidly that lesser riders would have been thrown out of their saddles into the sea.

"The first time you got a ride like this, you couldn't wait for it to stop!" he called to her.

"My tastes have changed... in rides, in dragons, and in men," she smiled back. "That's all _your _fault!"

When they returned home, exhilarated and windblown, they found Stoick and Gobber waiting for them impatiently. "Have you forgotten what you're supposed to be doing?" Stoick demanded.

"I _think _I know what we're supposed to be doing," Hiccup said innocently, "and I thought we didn't need witnesses for that anymore."

Astrid and Stoick both turned a little bit red at that. Gobber scowled, "He means yer mornin'-gift, ye rascal. This is the second time in a row ye've been late for this! How many times do ye 'ave to get married before ye get it right?"

"Oh, that!" Astrid exclaimed. "Yes, we did forget about that, but... our dragons come first. We're ready now, aren't we, Hiccup?" He nodded, and they walked hand-in-hand behind the two big men as they returned to the Mead Hall.

The large crowd clapped and cheered as they entered. News of Astrid's rehabilitation had spread rapidly – the more upright among the witnesses had seen to that – and there were no more obstacles to the town's celebrating whole-heartedly with the happy couple. Astrid sat at one of the few benches that wasn't sticky with spilled ale and mead, and Stoick ceremonially placed a medium-sized chest in front of her. All eyes were on her as she opened it.

"Oh my gosh... oh my gosh... oh my gosh..." She'd never seen that many coins in one place before, never mind silver and gold ones. From a life that was close to poverty, she had suddenly been handed a small fortune. Her father leaned over to confirm that the gift met the terms of the marriage contract, and was startled at what he saw.

"Stoick, this is quite a bit more generous than what we agreed on!"

The chief smiled. "My son is quite a bit happier with your daughter than I expected. Fair is fair. Congratulations, Hiccup son of Stoick and Astrid daughter of Gunnarr – you are now legally married!" The crowd cheered again.

As the reception party got rolling, Stoick bent down to Hiccup's ear. "I know you'd like to be alone with your lovely wife, but there's a small problem. We have a crisis in the kitchen, and somehow I have a feeling you're either part of the problem, or part of the solution. Would you follow me, please?"

Hiccup turned to Astrid as they followed Stoick. "It must be a total _disaster _in there, if they think _I_ can help!"

"It could be worse," she nodded. "They might have asked for _my _help!"

"I think you're exaggerating," he smiled. "Your mother is such a good cook – you must have inherited _some _of her talent!"

"Well, I'm really good at burning stuff," Astrid said.

They got to the kitchen; Burpfeather, the head cook, directed them toward the food storage areas in the back. They found two assistant cooks restraining an irritated-looking pre-teen girl.

"Alfdis?" Hiccup blurted out.

Her face lit up. "Hiccup!" She broke away from the assistants and threw her arms around him.

Astrid folded her arms and pretended to scowl at him. "_Well!_ It didn't take me long to catch _you _in the arms of another girl!"

"You know this girl?" the head cook demanded.

"Astrid, Dad, everyone, this is Alfdis, daughter of Megadeth the brother of Mogadon, the chief of the Meatheads," Hiccup introduced her. "Now, can somebody tell me what she was doing in the kitchen?"

"Eating everything in sight," one of the assistants said harshly.

"I'll accept responsibility for her," Hiccup said to Burpfeather. To Alfdis, he said, "Let's get out of here and find a place to sit and talk. I think you've got some talking to do."

The three of them wound up in Hiccup's back room in the forge; it was a lot closer than their house. "You know what my first question will be," Hiccup began.

"You mean, 'Why did I come here?' " Alfdis replied.

"No, we'll get to the 'why' part in a minute. I want to know _how _you came here."

"That wasn't hard," Alfdis smiled. "When I learned you'd sent an extra trade ship to bring food back to Berk for a party, I hid in a big bag of carrots. Nobody caught me on the whole voyage, and it was just bad luck that they found me in the storage part of that kitchen after two days there. I kept trying to sneak out, but there were too many people around. I hope I never see another carrot as long as I live!"

"Clever," Astrid nodded. "Now you can tell us the 'why' part."

"Who are _you?_" Alfdis demanded.

"This is Astrid, my wife," Hiccup explained. "The party you crashed is our wedding reception."

Alfdis glared at him. "Is she taking my sister's place?"

"No, Alfdis, she isn't," Hiccup said. "We got engaged because that was the only way I could save her life. We're married because we've always liked each other. But I'm never going to forget your sister, and Astrid doesn't want me to. Okay? Now, please tell us why you're here."

"I wanted to see the dragons again," she said reluctantly. "When I was here for Thora's wedding, I thought all dragons were scary and dangerous. Now I've met Toothless, and I want to know more about dragons, and this is the only place where I can find them."

Hiccup smiled at Astrid. "Give her two or three years, and I'll bet you could make a dragon trainer out of her." Then he turned back to Alfdis. "You know, of course, that your uncle said none of your people were allowed on Berk?"

Alfdis blew a quick raspberry. "That's a stupid rule! How am I supposed to learn about dragons if I'm stuck with a bunch of Meatheads?"

Astrid shook her head. "I think we need to put her on the next trading ship and send her home. Her parents must be in a panic because they don't know where she is."

"We have to tread lightly," Hiccup cautioned her. "A trading ship might not be appropriate. She's a chief's niece; we have to treat her with respect." Alfdis stuck her tongue out at Astrid. "By the way, Alfdis, did you forget that Astrid is a chief's daughter-in-law?" The girl clapped a hand over her mouth, embarrassed. "Okay, now we've settled who outranks who. Anyway, the next trading ship won't be here for a week and a half. I agree, her parents must be worried; a week and a half is way too long for them to wait."

"Okay, then can your father send a special ship to take her back tomorrow?" Astrid asked.

"I don't know; he might have trouble finding a crew who would be willing to miss the next four days of the reception," Hiccup said. He was fighting to hide a smile; Astrid could see the corners of his mouth twitching. He was up to something! "Alfdis, you've broken so many rules, you remind me of me. Your punishment is that you can't stay here. You're going home immediately."

The girl stamped her foot. "I thought you liked me! It's not fair! How am I supposed to learn more about dragons if I can't spend time with them?"

He couldn't hide his smile any longer. "If we take you home immediately, how do you think we're going to get you there?"

She thought hard for a few seconds. Then her face lit up like the sun itself.

**o**

Megadeth and his wife were sitting glumly in their living area, trying to think of somewhere Alfdis might have gone that they hadn't tried yet, when there was a knock at the door. Megadeth answered it hopefully.

"Hiccup! This is a surprise! And this lovely lady beside you, is she your – _ALFDIS!_" He spotted his daughter hiding behind Hiccup, and scooped her off the ground in a bear hug, laughing and trying not to cry at the same time. "Where have you _been?!_ Your mother and I have been worried _sick _about you! Hiccup, thank you for bringing her back, but what's your connection with this?"

Hiccup grinned. "I wanted to say, 'Can I keep her? She followed me home,' but she wouldn't cooperate. It seems she stowed away on a trading ship so she could see our dragons."

"You went to _Berk?_ My brother would be _furious_ if he knew!" Megadeth exclaimed.

"Then don't tell him," Alfdis retorted, not in the slightest bit repentant.

"She doesn't seem to have suffered at all," her mother noted.

"She just rode back here on Toothless," Astrid explained. "Her head is still up in Valhalla, I think."

"I guess I should make some introductions," Hiccup said, with a trace of embarrassment. "Astrid, this is Megadeth and Annthrax, my former in-laws. Megadeth, Annthrax, this is my wife, Astrid. We got married yesterday."

"And you're taking time out of your _honeymoon _to give our daughter joyrides?" Megadeth burst out. "Congratulations, but someone needs to teach you two about priorities!"

"We figured you'd be worried about her, and flying her back here was the fastest way we could think of," Hiccup said. "The fact that she'd totally love it was –"

"...not even close to punishment," Astrid cut him off. "She got the ride of her life! Honestly, Hiccup, if that's how you treat her when she stows away, she'll hide on every ship that goes _near_ Berk!"

"What did you want me to do – spank her?" Hiccup wondered. "She's too big for that."

"We'll take care of the punishment part, if any," Annthrax said, "_after _we've had a little time to get to know your wife. Please come in before one of Mogadon's friends sees you and tells him you're here."

"Wait a moment," Megadeth interrupted. "I don't want to be inhospitable, but I have to draw the line at girls who have shamed themselves. I'm the chief's brother; I have to set high standards because other people are watching me. I'm very sorry."

Hiccup shook his head. "She is _not_ shamed. I've proven her innocence in front of witnesses and restored her honor."

"Is that true?" Megadeth asked Astrid; she nodded. He shook his head in amazement. "I've never heard of _that _happening before. In that case, _please _come in!"

Lunch was about half an hour away, so they sat and talked until the ham was ready. Annthrax insisted on sharing some cooking secrets with Astrid, who tried to follow what the other woman was telling her.

"It's not that I don't _want _to learn how to cook – I'm just no good at it," Astrid told her. "If I could prepare food by throwing an axe at it, I'd be the best cook on Berk."

"It's really not that hard," Annthrax said. "Just start with a couple of recipes, get comfortable with them, and then try a few more. It does my heart good to see Hiccup devouring my cooking, and I think you'll like it too, once you've seen it happen once or twice."

"That's what my mother keeps telling me," Astrid said. "Did you two go to the same Husband Training Academy together?" Annthrax laughed.

"I could show you more cooking tricks if you could stay for supper."

Astrid started to accept, but suddenly remembered her mother's admonition. "Hiccup, what do you think about staying here until supper?"

He didn't think about it for long. "I told you what happens when they bribe me with food, didn't I? We'd be glad to stay!" They sat through the afternoon and talked about dragon training, with Alfdis a fascinated listener, until it was time to prepare the evening meal. Astrid followed Annthrax around the kitchen area, trying to absorb all the advice and pointers she was offering, while Hiccup sat with Megadeth, discussing swords and swordsmithing.

Supper was something neither Hiccup nor Astrid had ever encountered before: ground-up beef, formed into a patty the size of the cook's hand, fried in a pan and served between two round slices of bread. Annthrax called it a 'hand-burger,' and Hiccup loved it. Astrid made a point of getting the recipe from her hostess. "Even if I forget everything else I've learned about cooking today, I have to make _this_ again for him!" she decided.

It was already getting dark as they flew home on their dragons. "Can I ask you something?" he called to her.

"You just did," she grinned.

He made a wry face. "Okay, I walked into that one. You've been hanging around with me for too long – it's affecting your sense of humor! I'll ask you something else. I know you have to pin up your hair, now that you're married, but would you be willing to wear it loose for me, when it's just the two of us in the house?"

She considered it for a moment. "I haven't really thought it through, but... okay, I'll do that for you." She smiled. "I'd do just about anything for my wonderful husband."

"Just about _anything?_" he asked, suddenly very interested.

"What did I just commit myself to?" she demanded warily.

"Well... what about letting Toothless in the house?"

Again, she thought for a few seconds. "I have to say 'no' to that one, Hiccup, for one simple reason. If he comes in, then Stormfly will want to come in, too, and she won't fit – she's too big. I'm sorry; I know what Toothless means to you, but it won't be fair to Stormfly."

After a moment, he nodded slowly. "I guess you're right." They flew on through the gathering darkness.

"Are we going straight home?" she called to him.

"I suppose so," he answered. "I feel like doing something special, but aside from joining all our drunken friends at the reception, I don't know what else to do."

"Let's go to the cove," she suggested. He nodded. Both their dragons knew the way.

They landed, slid off their dragons, and stood facing each other. "What's on your mind?" he asked.

"You are," she smiled. "There have been so many times we've been in this cove, and I've wanted to kiss the daylights out of you, and I couldn't. We had to hold ourselves back, or worry because we had to be somewhere else... we could never just enjoy each other in this amazing place. Now, we can." She demonstrated exactly what she had in mind.

"How's that for destiny?" she whispered.

"I could get used to it," he said softly. "Don't look now, but we're being watched." Two pairs of huge dragon eyes were gazing at them curiously from about eight feet away, but they seemed to approve of what they were seeing.

She kissed him again. "This is such a wonderful place for us. I kissed you first here... you and I both met Toothless here... I almost wish we could claim this place as our very own."

"You could, you know," Hiccup answered. "Part of Thora's morning-gift was an acre of land, anywhere on Berk that wasn't already claimed. She loved the forest so much..." He shook his head.

"Are you seeing her out of the corner of your eye?" she asked.

"No, just... thinking about her," he answered sadly. She rested both hands on his shoulders; he suddenly took her in a tight embrace. It took her a second to realize she should hug him back.

"I'll never be as good at the girly stuff as she was," Astrid whispered.

"It's not a competition, Astrid," he whispered back. "You don't have to be as good as _her_. You just have to be good enough for _me_." He buried his face in her shoulder, carefully missing the armored shoulder pads. "I never thought of you as a safe place before, but maybe you are."

"If a safe place is what you need, then I'll learn to be one for you," she said softly, stroking his hair. "Friend, lover, comrade-in-arms, wife... I'll be all those things for you."

He pulled away, just enough so he could gaze at her without going cross-eyed. "What would you like _me _to be for _you?_"

"Just be Hiccup," she smiled. "That's all I ever wanted."

He closed his eyes and enjoyed her touch for a few more seconds. "Anyway, she never claimed her acre. I guess she couldn't make up her mind. Her title deed is still sitting in a little wooden chest in our storage area. It legally belongs to my wife, so I guess that makes it yours. You could pick any acre on the island, including this cove, and it will belong to you."

"To us, you mean," she said, her eyes shining in the moonlight. "I'll share it with you."

There in their cove beneath the stars, with two faithful dragons as the only witnesses, Hiccup and his bride finally shared the kisses they had longed to give each other for years. Nothing could come between them now.

Destiny was fulfilled.

_"__I think about the years I spent just passing through.  
"I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to you.  
"But you just smile and take my hand.  
"You've been there; you understand.  
"It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true._

_"__Every long-lost dream led me to where you are.  
"Others who broke my heart, they were like Northern stars,  
"Pointing me on my way into your loving arms.  
"This much I know is true:  
"That God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you."_

___(from "God Bless the Broken Road" by Rascal Flatts)_

_**o**_

___Epilogue_

_Partial time line of the lives of the characters in this story. The numbers at the start of each line are Hiccup's age when those events happened._

00: Hiccup is born to Stoick and Valhallarama. Astrid is born to Gunnarr and Edda. Thora is born to Megadeth and Annthrax. Thuggory is born to Mogadon the Meathead and his wife.

04: Varinn is born to Gunnarr and Edda.

05: Alfdis is born to Megadeth and Annthrax.

07: Valhallarama dies of unknown causes. Rangi is born to Gunnarr and Edda.

15: Hiccup befriends Toothless, wins Dragon Training, and kills the Red Death.

16: Hiccup is engaged to Thora.

17: Hiccup marries Thora; Astrid is engaged to Thuggory; Thora is killed by Outcasts; Hiccup is engaged to Astrid.

18: Hiccup marries Astrid. Thuggory marries a girl named Terryaki from the Bog-Burglar tribe.

19: Astrid gives Hiccup a daughter, Edda. Mogadon finally relaxes his embargo on travel to Berk; Megadeth and his family are on the next trading ship so they can visit Hiccup and Astrid at home. Astrid cooks hand-burgers for them, and does a pretty good job of it.

20: Alfdis visits Berk in search of a dragon of her own. Hiccup helps her train a dark-red Deadly Nadder; she names him Bloodwind. Astrid teaches her how to fly with him.

21: The Outcasts try to attack Berk again. Astrid and Alfdis spot their ships while on a night training flight. Stormfly and Bloodwind attack immediately and sink three ships between them; the fourth ship rescues the survivors and turns back. The Outcasts make no more attempts to raid Berk after that. Two weeks later, Gunnarr Hofferson announces the engagement of his older son Varinn to Alfdis.

22:Varinn marries Alfdis. He gives her Astrid's wedding sword (the one with the Celtic inlay), and she gives him Thora's wedding sword (the Stormblade replica), both of which were made by Hiccup.

23: Astrid gives Hiccup another daughter, Valhallarama.

24: Varinn and Alfdis have their first baby. They name the boy Gunnarr, but for many months, she calls him Toothless.

25: Astrid gives Hiccup a son, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock IV. She solemnly swears to forget her no-hitting promise if he ever gets her pregnant again.

26: Mogadon dies suddenly; Thuggory ascends to become chief of the Meatheads. He reaffirms the treaty of peace and trade with Berk, and expresses an interest in training his own dragon some day. He keeps his uncle Megadeth as his second-in-command, but he takes Barth as an advisor, with the promise that he'll become second-in-command once he's gotten some experience.

28: Stoick steps down from being chief, due to declining health. Hiccup becomes the chief of Berk; he faces no challenge or competition.

29: Astrid gives Hiccup a third daughter. She decides not to hit him; it's been so long since the last time, she's out of the habit. They name the baby Thora.

___THE END_

_**o**_

___A/N The story behind the story:_

Because this was such an unconventional story (and also because it was surprisingly popular), I feel like I owe you, the reader, an explanation for how and why I wrote it.

Some story ideas pop into my head like welcome surprises, happy to be written, but willing to wait their turn if other projects are more pressing. Other ideas lurk in the dark corners of my head, then leap out of an alley, grab my imagination and take it hostage, and don't let go until I've written the story out in its entirety. All other projects have to go on the back burner when an idea like that hits me. This was one of those ideas.

The plot itself was part of a logical progression. I started writing romantic stuff with Hiccstrid material like "How Is It Done?" and "Did Anybody See That?" Then I started pushing the envelope. First, I paired Hiccup with Heather in a pseudo-marriage in "The Heather Channel;" then I set him up with her for keeps in "Heather Together." In this story, I take it a step further by pairing Hiccup with a total stranger.

I knew, as soon as I got the idea for this story, that it would tick off a big chunk of the HTTYD fanbase, who live for Hiccstrid and will accept no substitutes. I can live with that. I figured a few people would like the story, even if it doesn't gain tens of thousands of hits like some of my other stories have done. If all I want out of writing fan fiction is to run up my hit count, I could write dozens of fluffy one-offs that would make me hugely popular with the knee-jerk Hiccstrid crowd. I'm trying to go beyond that, and write stories that make you feel more emotions than "Awww, aren't they cute together!" If that costs me some easy popularity, then so be it. (As of this writing, this story has received over 60,000 views and 400 reviews, and has become my #2 story in terms of popularity. I _never_ expected that.)

As I began to write out all the ideas that were filling my head, I found myself in a dilemma. I was starting to like Thora as her character developed. I didn't want to kill her! But if she lived, the story had no ending and no real premise. I consulted two friends, one of whom has done some writing, and the other of whom has a strong creative streak and a mildly twisted personality. "Just write the story and let it take its own direction," said the writer. "Kill her anyway," said the creative one. I still wish I could have thought of a way to let her live and still tell the story I wanted to tell.

That turned out to be impossible, for a reason that I didn't figure out until the story was almost finished. I was thinking about the story line and the way it had turned out, and I realized that I'm willing to put Hiccup in another girl's arms for the sake of a good story, but something in me refuses to give Astrid to anyone except Hiccup. Is that strange? Maybe there's a reason for it. Maybe it's a good reason; I don't know. I did it in the epilog of "Heather Together," but that was a skeleton outline of the future, not a story I sat down and wrote. Regardless, it meant that this story couldn't end until Hiccstrid was fulfilled. That meant Thora had to either leave Hiccup or die, and she wasn't the leaving type.

I'd originally planned to make Thora a young widow. The premise would be that she was wed at age 14 to a sailor in his late teens, who got washed off his ship by a wave and drowned just a few months later. This would have given her a "real man" to compare Hiccup against, which would have deepened her contempt for him at the beginning. As it turned out, she didn't need any help feeling contempt for him after he failed so badly on the mock-battlefield, so I just dropped that aspect of her. Their relationship was already complicated enough.

Some parts of the story almost wrote themselves. For instance, when I set out to describe the trade agreement, I had to think of some things that the two villages would trade. We know that Berk has sheep, but we never see anyone there eating mutton, only fish and chicken. Thus, I logically concluded that Berk uses its sheep exclusively for wool, so that's what they would trade. For the other island, I thought of a few things before I settled on meat. Then the light came on! Meat... Meatheads... they're called Meatheads because they like to eat meat! Suddenly, with no pre-planning on my part, I had a plot point with all kinds of implications I could use throughout the story, like with Thora's cooking, or the gratuitous references to bacon.

Some of my OC's are part of my ongoing headcanon. I decided long ago that Astrid's parents are named Gunnarr and Edda, that he's a butcher and she's a housewife, their sons are named Varinn and Rangi, and they're both loving, devoted parents. I've described them that way in several of my stories (Lightning and Death Itself, Heather Together, Did Anybody See That?), so if you're a follower of mine, you'll recognize them right away. Doing it this way has its ups and downs. On the one hand, it's easy to write for them – they're almost as well-established in my head as the canon cast. On the other hand, sometimes I have to remind myself which story I'm writing, because the supporting cast is the same in most of my stories.

Other parts of the tale came out of actual research, mostly thanks to The Viking Answer Lady's web site. Theses include the details of the wedding ceremonies, some of the people's names (including Thora and Alfdis), and the fact that Vikings usually named their children after relatives. Still other aspects of Viking culture, like the "three strikes, you're out" rule on marriage consummations or the rules for shaming someone, are entirely my own inventions, as far as I know.

As I began to write, I made a list of some scenes I wanted to include. I definitely wanted to describe what Berk was like in the dead of winter, which is an aspect of their village life that the movie and TV series overlook. I wanted Thora to tame some Terrible Terrors, just because the little dragons get overlooked so often. I wanted the two of them to have some kind of adventure together; I didn't want to rehash the treasure-hunt theme that served me so well in "The Heather Channel," so I came up with the tunnel chapter, which adds little or nothing to the story arc, but it's fun. The kidnapping chapter started off completely serious, but then I got the idea for the "Princess Bride" mash-up, and that theme totally took over the chapter. I knew I wanted Thora to get pregnant, then lose the baby and find out that Hiccup loves her; that would be wrenching to write, but I wanted it that way. Other scenes, like the visit to the Red Death and the flight home from there, got written on the fly with no pre-planned plot or agenda, just to see if I could flesh out a passing idea and make it worth reading.

I'm somewhat worried that this story won't measure up to my other stories, in terms of writing quality. I wrote much of it during a period of serious sleep deprivation, due to my work hours being changed several times a month. As I write this, no one has busted me for a continuity error yet. So far, so good.

Also, so far, no one has commented on the fact that Thora's father is named after a heavy-metal band. I' m no Megadeth fan; I just wanted a name that sounded scary and also sounded something like Mogadon, and that was the first thing that popped into my head. His wife is nameless through most of the story because she isn't an important actress in the plot. I finally named her simply because Hiccup had to introduce her to Astrid; I came up with a name that sounds a little bit female, but also sounds like another heavy-metal band.

The character of Alfdis didn't even exist until the story was half-finished. I created her to be a nameless non-entity like her mother, to help populate the story's background. But while writing the part where Hiccup and Thora visit her parents for the first time, I realized that Hiccup was going to get left alone with her, and he'd have to interact with her somehow. I just started writing some dialog for them, with no idea whatsoever where it might lead, and it led to dragons, as though that was the most natural thing in the world for them to talk about. That quickly grew into the scene where she meets Toothless; I liked the way it turned out, and decided that Thora's little sister needed to be promoted from a nameless non-entity to a secondary character. I went back and changed one of Thora's nameless bridesmaids into Alfdis, and gave her a greater role in the rest of the story than I'd planned. It's a good thing she doesn't get stage fright. Her personality was inspired by my friend with the creative streak who told me I should go ahead and kill Thora; ironic, yes?

To all the readers who are still wondering why I wrote the story this way, here's the bottom line: Hiccup and Astrid would probably have had a very rough relationship if they'd gotten married at the start of the story. He wasn't strong enough to be a good partner to Astrid; she would assume she could keep him in line with the honey (kisses) and the hatchet (punches in the arm), distributed as she thought best, and their relationship would have been very one-sided. He never could have found a safe place in her arms, and she never could have understood why he needed one. Because of what he went through with Thora, Hiccup left boyhood behind and became a man, and finally found the strength to stand up for himself in matters like Astrid hitting him. Because she went through the trauma of losing him, Astrid learned to appreciate him as a man, rather than as an amusing companion. They are now a much better-matched pair, and their marriage is built on the understanding that neither of them can run roughshod over the other. He'll never be a super-masculine Viking male, and she'll never be a feminine little doormat, but they can relate to each other as equals now.

I hope you've enjoyed the story. In fact, if you've enjoyed this story just half as much as I enjoyed writing it, then I enjoyed it twice as much as you :-Þ


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